Ghost of a Chance
by poxelda
Summary: The Ghost is back and this time it's personal. Warnings for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

Pan Am flight 5622 to Detroit from LAX slowly filled with bored travelers. MacGyver flipped through the Sky magazine absently. He kept his dark rimmed glasses focussed on the slow line of people waddling down the narrow aisle looking for their seats.

"Anything?" Mac asked quietly.

"Nothing so far," Riley said over the comm in his ear. Mac frowned and sighed.

"At this rate, we'll end up flying all the way to Detroit," Jack grumbled. Mac smiled and fought the urge to turn and look at his partner.

"Assuming you don't get blown up on the way," Matty added over the com.

"There is that," Mac said. He sat up frowning. A small woman with a bird-like bony frame came toward him. Even behind her green-rimmed glasses, Mac could see her eyes darting around the cabin with almost palpable desperation. Her face was pale, and she looked like she was prematurely aged.

"Something, Mac?" Jack asked.

"Riley, this woman in blue?"

"C'mon man, she hardly looks like a terrorist." Jack protested. The woman slid into the window seat behind Mac, in the third row back from first class.

"Her name is Jennifer Langston; I don't see anything unusual about her," Riley said.

"That's the point," Mac said. All of his team could pick up a tension in his voice.

"Mac, what are you thinking?" Matty asked.

"I've seen that look before."

"What look?"

"Riley, did she book with a kid?" Mac asked. He could hear the tapping of her keyboard then she gasped.

"It says here she book two seats, one for her and one for her ten-year-old son, how did you know?" Mac gritted his teeth and stood up ducking under the luggage containers and mixing into the line of people with a friendly smile and apology.

"Her bags," Mac whispered.

"I didn't see that," Jack said impressed.

"What?" Matty asked.

"She has a business portfolio and a Power Ranger's backpack," Mac whispered.

"Oh, the Power Rangers!" Riley said.

"That's not the one I'm worried about," Mac grunted as he impatiently waited for a woman to try to stuff a large carry on into a luggage area half its size.

"Why?" Matty asked. Mac frowned wishing just once he didn't have to explain what he was doing or thinking of someone.

"When was the last time you've seen a briefcase with wires in its handle."

"Shit, let me move," Jack whispered.

"No, keep a lookout there'll be a minder." Mac slid into the seat beside the woman. The woman jumped and skittered as far away from him as she could.

"Th...that seat's taken." The woman said in a high pitched squeak.

"I'm sorry, I guess they overbooked, I was told to sit in this seat because the guy never checked in."

"That's not right, I checked in my…" The woman's pale face went ash white; her eyes darted to one of the flight attendants, a tall man with a brush of dirty blond hair shaved along the sides. Mac could see the blue points of a tattoo along the man's neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure it was just a mix-up. I'll call the flight attendant." The woman grabbed his arm, her fingers digging in with panic.

"NO, no that's alright." Mac smiled gently and opened his magazine. The woman's eyes were wet with tears; she turned to stare out the window.

"Riley, blond flight attendant," Mac whispered looking up at the man.

"Want me to take him out?" Jack asked.

"No, he might have a dead man's switch. If he doesn't, he'll get off the plane just before we leave." Mac said softly. "Matty?"

"Already have units in the area."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then he's all yours, big guy."

"I can't find anything about him," Riley said. Mac looked down as the man glared at him.

"He's been to prison in Russia." Jack offered.

"What? How do you know?" Riley asked.

"Tatoo, looks like an enforcer been through three times," Mac said as he surreptitiously eyed the tattoo.

"Crap," Jack muttered. "Russian mafia?" Mac licked his lips. There was only a small group of passengers left standing.

"Do you have a pen?" Mac asked the woman beside him. She jumped and clutched the brief case, her eyes widened with panic. Mac smiled warmly. The woman relaxed a little and fished in the Power Ranger back pack.

"Pencil ok?" She asked around a noose in her throat.

"That's perfect, thank you." Mac leaned over the magazine as if he were going to do the crossword. Sat back and offered the woman her pencil, when she went to take it Mac put the paper out instead. Her eyes widened and automatically traveled to the flight attendant who was watching her as closely as a cobra. Mac turned the page.

"That was clever." Matty said.

"What'd ya do?" Jack asked.

"He wrote her a note." He glanced at her, Jennifer her remembered. She hunched forward and closed her eyes. She glanced at him and nodded. Mac nodded back.

"Crap." Matty said.

"What?" Jack asked.

"They have her wired for surveillance, Riley?"

"I'm trying, but it's on the airport's public WI-FI it'll take too long to separate out her signal from the others." Mac frowned.

"We'll have to wait until we're in the air." He said softly. The engines roared to life, and the pilot came over the intercom telling the flight crew to prepare for taking off.

"Our boy's not getting off." Jack commented. Mac sighed. "This means plan B doesn't it?" Jack said. Mac could hear the grin in the older man's voice.

"I think our plan A should automatically be plan B." Riley said. Mac rolled his eyes and did up his seat belt. He looked down at the Russian man began to walk down checking the overhead luggage compartments. Mac's heart pounded as the man drew along side his seat. He studied the man out of the corner of his eye. The man leaned over him. Jennifer shrank back, her eyes wide as plates.

"We'll be taking off soon; I suggest you hold onto your luggage tightly." The man hissed at the terrified woman. Mac glanced up at him and forced his eyes to shy away as if he were afraid of the goon. Mac studied him as he continued down the aisle. The man returned the front and began to go through the mechanical safety demonstrations.

"Does anybody else think it's creepy for this guy to do safety instructions?"

"Ironic, for sure." Mac mumbled. "Before they turn on the in-flight WI FI, Jack you need to take him out fast and quiet."

"Got it, what about you?"

"I'm going to kill their monitoring then take care of the bomb."

"Could you please not say kill?" Riley said worry in her voice. Mac grimaced. She had a point. Mac slowly pulled out his Swiss army knife. Both he and Jack had air marshal badges so had been allowed to keep their weapons, although Jack's Baretta wouldn't be any help in flight.

"What about the dead man's switch?" Jack asked.

"Didn't see any." Mac glanced back casually. Jack nodded. As soon as the seat belt sign beeped off, Jack ducked out of his seat and walked forward. Mac turned to Jennifer.

"Where'd they put the communicator?" He asked. She stared at him wide-eyed.

"I'll get you out of this, I promise, but we don't have time." She pulled up her sleeve. Mac grimaced. He leaned over and gazed at the patch attached to her wrist with wires that twisted around the handle. "Jack, I need your watch!" Mac called. Passengers cried out, and Mac heard swearing and crashing sounds coming from the galley in front of first class.

"'Bit busy...right...now." Jack wheezed. Mac huffed he undid his seat belt and scanned the passengers around him. Of all days to forget his watch! Mac railed at himself. Finally, Mac smiled. He dashed down the aisle to an elderly lady sitting in the back seat beside a narrow plane wheelchair. Mac knelt beside her. He could imagine her baking cookies for her grandchildren. Before Mac could open his mouth, her face turned into a mask of intense annoyance.

"What the hell do you want?" She growled. Mac sighed and pulled out his badge.

"Air Marshall, I need your watch." Mac said almost feeling the seconds as they counted down. Over the com, Mac could hear Jack grunt and air whoosh out of his partner.

"Bullshit, you just come and take shit…" Mac's desperation turned into frustration. He leaned forward grabbing the arms of the woman's seat. Her eyes widened.

"Look, there's a bomb on this plane and unless you want to get blown into confetti give me the fucking watch." He hissed. She scraped it off her wrist.

"Damn, dude, that was a bit harsh." Jack said. Mac heard another crash, and someone in first class screamed. Mac ignored it all and returned to his seat. He worked quickly popping open the watch and cutting the wires, he attached them inside the watch and closed the watch again. Mac smiled at Jennifer grabbed the portfolio and dashed to the back of the plane. He dropped to the carpet and carefully opened the case. Luckily it wasn't booby trapped.

Unfortunately, it was a bomb with 20 seconds left on the clock.

"Crap." Mac muttered.

"Crap? What do you mean crap?" Matty demanded.

"Semtex, these guys are serious."

"Well, get to it bud." Mac jumped his breath catching when Jack spoke at his elbow. Jack grinned around a split lip and bloody nose. Mac rolled his eyes and leaned in closer focusing on the wires. He frowned. The style of the bomb was familiar, too familiar. Shit. _What can kill you now, what can kill you later,_ he reminded himself. He carefully reached in with a steady hand and snipped two wires. The countdown stopped. "Great job!" Jack breathed. Mac ignored him and carefully removed the explosive and wires. "Mac, what are you doing? Why aren't you done?" Mac pulled back a final layer of 3D printed membrane and sat back his eyes closing.

"Son of a bitch! Is that another…"

"Yes." Mac muttered. He could feel the device under his hands start to whir and hum. Mac frowned, there was no explosive in the second device. He sat back and bit his lip.

"What's wrong? You know I don't like that look when you're looking at a bomb." Mac's eyes widened.

"Shit." He hissed. His eyes darted around him. He rose up and crossed to the wheelchair.

"What are you doing that's mine! I swear I know air plane companies don't care about service…" Mac tuned her out sliding off one of the leg braces. Jack bent over her to calm her down. Her voice increased in volume as she got wound up.

"Will you shut up, you ol' cow!" Jack finally hissed at her.

"Well, I never…" Mac crossed to the side of the plane and felt along a seam. He stood up, swung the metal brace back and slammed it against the wall. Passengers began to scream. Jack stepped forward holding out his badge and talked to them using his horse-whisperer voice to keep them calm. Mac glanced over at the device it was spinning faster, and he could see blue sparks start to build. Desperation made Mac attack the shell of the plane as if he were chopping down a tree. Finally, the rivets holding the sheet of metal on gave away. Mac reached in and pulled at it. He grimaced with pain and ignored the blood running down the metal and his hand. It pulled away leaving a six-inch opening.

Mac tugged at the foam, fiberglass, and padding coughing at the itchy fibers as they flew around him. Mac smiled. Finally, he had a thick aluminum mesh exposed. He turned back to the device and disconnected one wire and attached to another. The device was now one continuous spark. Mac ducked back, his hand protecting his eyes. He was dimly aware of Jack yelling at him. Mac looked at him with a pained resignation. Before Jack could say anything, Mac grabbed the mesh of the airplane with his right hand, then the sparking machine with his left. His face was instantly red; his muscles shook and tightened. His mouth opened as he gasped for air. Jack looked at him horrified.

"MAC!" Mac felt burning in his left hand, a flash of agony, burning in his right hand, then nothing. Jack sat frozen. He could see an arc of lightning cross from the sparking device through Mac's chest to the wall of the plane. All of the lights went off then flashed back on. There was a blue bolt of light out the window by the tail fin, then everything was normal. Mac's eyes rolled back in his head, and he flopped back onto the carpet not moving.

"Mac? C'mon buddy." Jack felt panic shake his heart hard. Mac's body began twitching. Jack reached over with a shaking hand.

"Jack, what's going on?"

"Are you guys ok?" Jack barely heard his teammate's voices. He concentrated on feeling for a pulse. His eyes widened in panic when he realized there wasn't one.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack panicked. Jack was adept at battle field first aid, and could even cut out a bullet in a pinch, but his mind blanked at what he was supposed to do after an electric shock. Jack freaked out. He grabbed the front of Mac's shirt and shook him vigorously bouncing him off the carpet and slamming him back down. Mac gasped, and his eyes flashed open. Jack fell back sucking in a deep breath of relief. Mac breathed too fast, and his pulse throbbed irregularly. Mac closed his eyes and moaned rubbing his chest with his burn right hand and forced himself to take slow deep breaths.

Jack sat back and took a steadying breath. He became aware of panicked voices over his com.

"He's back. He's back." Jack whispered to himself loud enough to calm Matty and Riley. Jack studied Mac and gently circled his wrist for reassurance Mac was not dead. Jack frowned. Mac's skin was clammy and pale. "Hey, Mac?" Mac's eyes cracked open but didn't focus on Jack. Jack felt panic reassert itself. He shook Mac. Mac hissed and held Jack's hand stilling it.

"Don't...please…" Mac's voice was barely audible over the plane's engine. Jack looked up as a member of the flight crew, the co-pilot Ken Jones, according to his name tag, knelt beside him. He looked at Mac concerned.

"What the hell is going on? Is he ok?" Jack opened his mouth to answer, but Mac opened his eyes and blinked Ken into focus.

"There was a...bomb…"Mac had to pause to suck in air. Jones' eye brows raised and Jack could see the man tense.

"It's ok; he took care of it." Jack assured the man, "right, bud?" Mac closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Mac nodded. The co-pilot breathed out in relief.

"What about the guy taped up in first class?" Ken asked pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. Mac glanced at Jack amused. Jack shrugged.

"All I had." Jack turned to Jones. "He has something to do with this bomb."

"There's also a kidnapped boy," Mac said rubbing his chest and grunting. The co-pilot looked at Jack. Mac caught the look.

"I'm fine...mostly. One of the bombs…"

"One?" Ken asked. Jack looked down frowning his eyes narrowed. He didn't say anything but Mac could see that his partner had put together the same picture as he had Mac took a couple of deep breaths then tried to push himself upright. Jack pushed him back down. He didn't have to; Mac flopped back to the carpet with a cry of pain.

"One of the bombs was an EMP…" Mac trailed off gasping and rubbing his forehead. The co-pilot's eyes widened. Ken studied the wounded plane panel. He looked back at Mac impressed.

"You rerouted the charge through the lightening mesh." Mac nodded and winced rubbing the back of his neck.

"What does that mean?" Jack asked.

"An EMP bomb works like a dynamo it makes an electrostatic charge which then discharges interrupting any electrical fields in its path. If that had gone off like it was supposed to…"

"We would have dropped like a rock," Jack said eyes wide. He looked down at Mac whose head slumped to the side; the blond's eyes sagged closed. Jack shook his partner. Mac's eyes slowly opened then floated close again. Jack frowned with worry.

"Your friend managed to redirect the charge to the lightning mesh that lines the skin of the plane. It is what protects the plane when lightning hits it."

"Oh man, I saw it go through him then outside...damn." He bent and checked Mac's carotid pulse. The pulse was steady but irregular. Jones nodded and stood up.

"We're going to turn back to LAX. I'll make sure medics and police are there…"

"The medic is great; we already have agents in the area. We'll take care of everything." The co-pilot studied Jack a long minute. Jack smiled but knew that Ken knew there was more to the story and that Jack was not an air marshal. He glanced at the pale, unconscious Mac and nodded. Jack let out a breath.

"Matty?"

"Already on it," Riley answered. "Also checking into who could make an EMP bomb."

"We have a pretty good idea," Jack grumbled.

"Oh?" Matty asked.

"Who do we know uses two different kinds of bombs in one?" Jack said nodding thanks at a flight attendant who offered him a pillow, blanket, and small first aid kit.

"Not the ghost?" Riley asked frustration in her voice. Jack could hear Matty and Riley start talking to each other. Jack turned it out. He gently put the pillow under Mac's head. He covered him and examined the kid's hands. Jack winced. The inside of Mac's fingers and thumb were blistered and charred. Jack put some burn gel on then gently wrapped both hands loosely with non-stick gauze. Jack brushed aside Mac's bangs. Mac's eyes cracked open. 

"Hey," Jack said. Mac blinked, but his eyes drifted to Jack's face. Mac rubbed his forehead. "How bad?" Jack asked his voice tight with worry.

"I'm ok," Mac mumbled. "Just a bit stunned." Mac looked at his wrapped hands and winced.

"Next time do not try to reroute a lightning bolt!" Jack growled. Mac chuckled then gasped and ran his hand across his chest.

"It wasn't that strong. It would have knocked out the plane, and there were only three seconds left."

"Good job, Mac," Matty said. Jack frowned when Mac gave no sign he heard. "Mac?" Mac looked at Jack puzzled. He jumped when Jack leaned forward and pulled out his ear bud. Mac raised an eyebrow when Jack showed him the black melted plastic inside the ear piece. Mac shook his head, feeling his eyes demand to close. All of his muscles ached, and he felt as if he couldn't get his breath. His chest hurt, and he could feel his bounding pulse beat irregularly. Mac's scalp burned and his jaw ached. Mac wasn't sure if that was from muscle spasms or his charred com. Mac took a deep breath and couldn't keep his eyes open. He was exhausted.

"His comm got fried," Jack said. He glanced down at Mac who was out again. "He was lucky." Jack sighed. He looked up feeling the plane slowly bank into a full curve. "Looks like we're heading back now."

"Ok, Jack. We'll meet you when you land." Matty said. Jack acknowledged then pulled out his comm rubbing his head. He realized that the passengers were murmuring and glancing down the aisle at them. Jack managed a smile and waved. The pilot came over the intercom stating that they were returning to LAX due to a medical emergency. Jack could see cell phones pointing at them. Jack put the comm back in and informed Riley who assured Jack she would take care of it. Riley babbled something technical the only thing Jack understood was virus. Jack held Mac's hand keeping his fingers on his partner's pulse using it to calm his own.

Mac gasped as he felt arms lift him up and carry him. Mac's eyes focused on Jack who was carrying him under his arms. Then he was moving through the airport wrapped snuggly on a gurney. The ambulance was cold; Mac began to shiver. He heard voices around him, but they were unintelligible. The sirens seemed to saw through his head. Mac began to vomit. They raised his head. Then he was being shifted onto a narrow cart in ER. Mac moaned, his chest felt like a knife was twisting into his heart. He felt himself puke again; then he was floating.

"Hey, bud. You awake?" The voice seemed to echo through a vast empty canyon. Mac tried to answer, but his mouth was too dry. Mac coughed.

"Easy, kiddo. Here." Mac felt a straw poke into his mouth; he drank greedily. He opened his eyes, and everything blinked into focus. Mac frowned at an IV running into his arm and the monitor attached to his bare chest. By the bustle and sounds, Mac realized he was in ER. His fingers were wrapped in finger long band aids. Mac grunted and reached over to pull out the IV ignoring the screaming from his muscles and hands. Jack slapped his hands and his jaw bunched in frustration.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Jack, we have to get out of here." Jack frowned at the tight urgency in the younger man's voice. Mac reached out to pull himself upright. Everything spun, and Mac found himself flopping back.

"You aren't going anywhere for awhile." Mac glared at Jack then pulled again until he was sitting then fell forward off the cart. Swearing Jack managed to grab Mac and pull him back onto the bed. "Will you stop!"

"We have to find that kid before it's too late." Mac looked down. Jack could feel the tension coming off his partner in waves.

"Mac, what…?"

"Hey," Both men turned to see a CNA holding a manila envelope out to Mac. "Your friend sent this back for you." Mac sat up straighter and looked at Jack with a desperation Jack couldn't decipher.

"What did he look like?"

"Old dude, wrinkly short dark hair." The CNA shrugged and walked into another cubicle. Mac shook his head.

"No, not again…" He whispered. He opened it and pulled out a photo. Mac closed his eyes and dropped his head rubbing his forehead. Jack frowned taking the picture from his partner.

"Son of a bitch!" He hissed. He handed back the picture then moved off talking fast to Matty and Riley. Mac looked back at the picture his heart heavy. The boy was obviously Jennifer's son. He looked the right age and wore a Power Ranger's shirt. Mac rubbed his eyes and forced himself to focus. The kid was tied so he couldn't move a muscle and gagged. Mac avoided looking at the child's terrified eyes. He knew that look too well. Mac studied the bomb attached to the boy's chest. A display showed 10 minutes and counted down with an annoying buzz. Mac ignored that and looked closer. He could only see one bomb, unfortunately it looked like liquid nitroglycerine in a glass covered beaker with a motion detector trigger. Shit.

Mac studied the background and closed his eyes rubbing his forehead. It looked like an abandoned industrial basement. In the dim light, Mac was able to make out a metal sink divided into three sections. Mac frowned. It was the kind used in food service.

"Matty notified the police, she's giving the Russian the fourth degree. Do you have anything?"

"It's here in the hospital," Mac said closing his eyes as he stood up and everything seemed to fade a shade. He looked up at Jack's concerned face and offered a reassuring smile; it was more of a white-lipped grim line. Mac blinked and took a deep breath.

"How do you know that?" Mac handed Jack the picture and strode out of the cubicle. At first, he staggered then his adrenaline pumped. Mac walked up to a house keeper. Jack followed him. Mac took the picture from him and showed it to the woman.

"Do you know where this is?" Mac asked. The woman studied it and frowned.

"I think it's the old cafeteria. It's through the tunnel to the old building. They're going to rebuild it into offices or something." Mac got directions then asked where the current cafeteria was. The woman raised a confused eye brow and told him. Mac took off in his ground eating deer stride. Jack was passing on information to Matty as they went. Mac slid into the cafeteria then into the kitchen. Cooks in white uniforms and hair netting looked up at the two men surprised.

"I need Jello or pudding." Mac declared. Everone stared. "NOW!" He growled. The man standing over the grill came toward them demanding information. Mac rolled his eyes and ran to the only door that could open into a pantry.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You can't go back there!" Jack intercepted the man and put a hand on the man's chest stopping him.

"I know this is a pain, but believe me we need that Jello!" The cook glared at Jack. Jack frowned. "I know how weird that sounds, but I'm serious…"

"I'm going to call security this is ridiculous!" Jack nodded. Mac flew past him carrying a handful of boxes of jello.

"Sorry," Jack muttered as he spun and ran on his partner's heels. The tunnel was long and lit only by dim green lights. It was surreal and eerie. Jack felt his skin crawl. He glanced at Mac. Mac's face was splotched pink and sweaty. They sped through a large empty room, a small cooking area, to the back prep area. Mac slowed huffing. Jack went to turn on the lights. Mac grabbed his hand and shook his head. Jack opened his mouth, and Mac shook his head. Mac indicated that Jack should stay where he was standing. Jack nodded. Mac crossed the room. Jack lost sight of Mac but could hear him move around the chamber. There was a click, and a flashlight lit up. The bulb was dim. Mac shook it, and the light brightened. He shared a worried look at Jack. The batteries wouldn't stay on for long. Mac moved deeper into the room. Jack followed carefully walking directly behind his partner just as he did when they were in Afghanistan. Mac paused and let out a deep breath.

The boy's eyes were dripping tears. The countdown gave them three more minutes.

"Oh boy," Jack said. Mac handed him the flashlight.

"Yeah." Jack did not like the fear in Mac's voice. That meant it was bad, really bad.

"What is it?" Jack asked finding himself whispering as Mac slowly crept closer as if he were trying to sneak up on the bomb.

"We're going to get you out of here, I promise," Mac said with a soft smile to the boy. "But it's essential you don't move anything, ok?" To his credit, the boy didn't nod. Jack crept closer and shined the light on the bomb. Jack's mouth went dry.

"Is that nitro?"

"Uhm-hmm." Mac slowly opened the boxes of pudding, and one by one slowly poured them into the clear liquid. He stepped back and tossed the boxes across the room. Mac wiped his sweaty face. Bent over leaning on his knees a minute.

"Mac…?"

"Now the hard part," Mac said softly. He glanced at Jack. "You probably want to leave the flashlight on the counter and get the hell out of here. The pudding gives us a little wiggle room, but one jolt…"

"You know better than that, C'mon bud, let's do it." Mac threw him a half smile in gratitude. Mac crouched and moving in extreme slow motion unhooked the bomb from the belt hanging over the boy's head. Mac's hands were steady, and he moved with a tense but fluid grace. The rhythmic buzzing rattled through Jack's skull reminding him there were only a few more left. Mac was turning to the metal sink when the flashlight died. Mac froze.

"Jack?" Jack slapped the flashlight and shook it desperately. The flashlight was dead.

"It's dead!" Jack's voice squealed with fear. Mac let out a slow breath.

"Jack slowly walk over to me." Jack set the flashlight on the ground and moved quickly toward Mac's voice. He held out his hands and was relieved when his fingertips brushed along Mac's shoulder. Mac sucked in a small breath but managed not to jump in surprise. "Ok, walk straight ahead until you feel the sink." Jack did.

"Ok."

"Keep talking, hold out your hand, high so it'll brush my hair."

"Or poke you in the eye, you know it's always fun until you poke out an eye…" Jack babbled. They had 30 seconds left. His hand bushed Mac's chin. Jack frowned at how clammy his friend's skin felt. Jack slid his hand to Mac's shoulder and guided him to the sink.

"Ok, Jack I need you to back across the room."

"Mac, look…"

"Jack!"

"Fine, no need to yell." Jack crossed over to where he thought the boy was still tied up. He felt the kid's hair then stood in front of him, holding his hands out behind him trying to reassure the tied up boy.

15 seconds. Mac could feel the cold sweat run down his face. Only his stubbornness held his muscles steady. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep. He slowly bent, pausing every second or so to make sure the fluid didn't slosh and the pudding didn't move. He slowly slid the beaker off his hand to the metal bottom of the sleep.

"Mac? C'mon, bud." Mac ignored his friend. 3 seconds. Mac took out his Zippo lit it and dropped it in the nitro. Mac turned and dove for the floor. There were a whoosh and a volcanic wave of fire. Mac held his arms over his head but could feel the wave of heat brush along his body. He grimaced smelling burnt hair. Mac coughed and rolled over. He sucked in air, but the scorching heat burned his lungs. Everything went gray. Mac felt familiar hands grab him by the shoulders and drag him out to the hall. Mac laid back and closed his eyes focusing on breathing. From miles away he heard more voices and felt a steady stream of thumping feet around him. Mac jumped as a plastic oxygen mask slipped over his nose and mouth. Mac opened his eyes and moved to pull off the mask. Jack stopped him.

"Quit it, just breathe ok. You're scaring the crap out of me today." Mac raised an eye brow and moved to sit up. Jack helped him sit with his back against the wall. Mac tipped his head against the cool cement and held the oxygen taking steady breaths.

"The kid?" Mac asked tiredly.

"He's fine, they took him to ER, his mom is going to be with him." Mac nodded and dropped the mask in his lap. He moved to drag himself to his feet. Jack held onto him.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Mac looked at him with tired eyes that were caverous with his pain.

"We don't have much time. He'll contact us soon." Jack stood up and held Mac's elbow until his partner was on his feet.

"What? Why would he do that? How do you know?" Mac smiled at Jack. It was a hollow expression that frightened Jack almost as much as the nitro.

"We've done this dance before."

"What? When?" Mac shook his head and pushed off the wall walking away without answering. Jack caught his arm, and half turned him. "Talk to me, what's going on?"

"The Ghost likes to play games and will keep going until you lose," Mac said through tightly gritted teeth. His jaw clenched, and his eyes seemed to look into the distance. Jack remembered what he'd told Thornton "I've seen this man kill hundreds...".

"Mac?" Mac shook himself and walked out of the cellar kitchen.

"Let's see what we can get out of the Russian. I don't plan on losing to the bastard again." Jack frowned and followed the younger man back through the tunnel.


	3. Chapter 3

When Jack first met Mac in Afghanistan, the eyes of a wounded centenarian looked at the world through a kid's agonized face. It had taken Jack a long time to connect with the kid before he'd ever seen Mac laugh or smile genuinely. Jack glanced over at his partner who sat leaning back in his seat head turned watching the blur of scenery out his window. He could feel Mac sliding back into the black cave he'd been in when they first met. Mac turned.

"Stop staring." Mac tried humor and failed. His deep voice sounded exhausted and sad. Mac sighed and rolled his eyes. "Jack, I'm all right."

"I know he killed your friend…"

"CO." Mac's jaw clenched, and he turned away. Yeah right, Jack thought. He

took a deep breath.

"Yeah. Mac, you said once you'd seen this maniac kill over a hundred

men…" Mac closed his eyes.

"Was this the last time you got stuck in this sicko's games." Mac swallowed and took a deep breath.

"No, not all of them anyway." Jack waited. The silence stretched. Jack was about to probe further when Mac sighed and looked down at the paper clip he was bending in his lap. "The Ghost only works for money. The insurgents made make shift IEDs. We started coming across a few that were made by a very talented bombmaker. His bombs appeared with the bigger, more valuable targets. His style was much more complicated using varied techniques. They were much more deadly." Mac's hands froze; he stared out the windshield his gaze much farther away than the road in front of him. Mac cleared his throat and forced his attention back to the paperclips.

Mac cleared his throat and glanced at Jack. "Pena was the first one to put it all together. Our unit was the most successful, so we got assigned to hunt the Ghost. We followed him all over Afghanistan. Then…" Mac rubbed his left eye. Jack thought he saw moisture but wasn't sure. Mac cleared his throat again but seemed like he couldn't form words.

"He killed Pena." Mac closed his eyes and nodded. He coughed and looked out the window again. This time Jack was sure he saw a tear before Mac scrubbed it away.

"That's when the game started. I think when the Ghost is between jobs or someone annoys him..." Mac took a deep breath. "That's when the game starts." He shook himself and tossed the paperclips on the dashboard. Jack raised an eyebrow. They'd formed the outline of a scooby-doo ghost. Mac's phone rang. He put it on speaker.

"Hey Matty, you're on speaker."

"You were right, Mac. We found a camera on the plane. It recorded the interior of the aircraft. There was a second bomb in the light switch and a camera watching the kid too." Jack glanced over at Mac and swallowed. He had almost turned on that light. Mac shot him a half smile and shrugged.

"Anything from the Russian?" Jack asked. Matty huffed in frustration.

"We haven't been able to identify him on any database, and he stared straight ahead saying nothing."

"We'll be there in less than five," Jack said. He glanced over at Mac who had that glazed look Jack knew so well. "Mac? What is going through that ginormous brain?"

"I don't know; there's something we're missing."

"Well, Baby Einstein, figure it out before you get here."

Llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

Jack slammed his fist on the table. Mac jumped in surprise. The man staring at him with dead eyes didn't. Mac frowned studying the man. Jack leaned over him.

"You better start talking now, dude, or so help me I'll ask my friend here to leave, and I'll show you…" Mac held up a hand. Jack glared at him and stepped back huffing. Mac leaned forward and stared into the man's eyes for a long minute.

"Who'd he take?" Mac asked. Jack's mouth dropped open at the soft, gentle tone Mac used. Jack's gaze shifted over to the Russian. The man's eyes were wet and his rock hard criminal exterior crumbled into anguish.

"We can help you get them back, but you need to talk to us now. The Ghost won't keep them alive long." The man's shoulder slumped.

"He has my wife and three children...please..." Jack's eyes shot up. The man's Russian accent had morphed into a Southern drawl.

"You aren't Russian?" Jack stared at the man, "How'd you know?" Mac pointed at the man's tattoo.

"The ink from his tattoo rubbed off onto his collar. Tell us what happened, starting with your name."

"My name is Kevin Leary, I work out of Atlanta. I was due to go on vacation, I went home, and they were gone. There was a video of my wife reading instructions...I didn't know it was a bomb! I thought it was drugs."

"So you were willing to terrorize a woman who had her son stolen so you could get your own back?" The man cowered under Jack's glare.

"Jack," Jack glared at his partner but backed off, "What were your instructions, specifically."

"I saw this woman who was looking for her son; I figured he was lost. I was ordered to go up to her hand her this briefcase and tell her to get on the plane. I was supposed to make sure she got on that plane. I had studied in Russia in college and was supposed to play a gangster...I am so sorry! I hope that woman is okay...I…" The man broke down and sobbed into his arms. Mac stood up and nodded to the door. Jack followed him.

"You know what this means don't you?" Jack asked. Mac nodded and rubbed his forehead grimacing in pain. He looked pale and worn.

"We were set up." He sighed. Mac looked at his watch. "And we're running out of time." Mac took a step and swayed. Jack ran to his side. Mac bent over his elbows on his knees.

"Mac?"

"Just a little dizzy," Mac mumbled. He stood up and took a deep breath. Jack caught his arm.

"I think you should go to medical." Mac offered a half smile, pulled his arm free and let the way to the war room. Jack let him go with a frown. He knew Mac was the only one that could stop the Ghost from blowing up more people.

Matty, Bozer, and Riley turned as the pair entered. Bozer grinned and insisted on hugging both men.

"Get off me, you know I don't do all that mushy stuff," Jack growled pushing Bozer away.

"Oh Jack, don't tease…" Bozer stepped forward. Riley and Matty laughed. Mac smiled and closed his eyes. He blinked he plopped onto the couch. Mac shook his head and leaned forward holding his aching head. His pulse pounded in his ears. Sweat beaded and ran down Mac's face; his muscles trembled and ached. His chest felt like a dagger twisted deep through his heart. Mac forced himself to relax and take deep slow breaths. The others crouched around him. They were all speaking, but to Mac, it was a hazy blur. After the spell passed, Mac wiped his forehead and sat up.

"Mac, you need to go to medical," Matty said. Mac shook his head.

"I'm ok, just needed to sit a minute." Before the others could speak, his phone rang. Mac felt his heart sink. Mac mentally braced himself, closed his eyes and sighed. The others went silent. Jack sat beside him.

"Mac?" Mac glanced at him smoothing his face into a calm facade.

"It's a video," Mac whispered. He handed it to Riley who typed on her keyboard. All eyes turned to the view screen. Mac picked a paperclip out of the bowl on the table and went still. His eyes narrowed as he studied every pixel of the image. Mac turned to Riley. She smiled.

"It's streaming, and yes, I'm tracking it." Mac nodded and stepped closer to the screen.

A woman sat on a metal bench in a brick square room. Three crying children huddled close. Mac frowned. There was that look again-terror, desperation, and resignation. Jennifer and her son had it; countless innocent people had it as they walked toward village town squares carrying IEDs. Focus, Mac railed at himself. The camera panned to the ceiling which looked like it was covered by giant spiders. Mac turned his head. There were more than 50 small cylinders attached to cords and wires that stretched between each bomb. LED lights in different colors with different times pulsed in sync, the same inexorable pulse counting down different times. The shortest had 20 minutes the longest 90.

"Riley, can you get an address?" Jack asked.

"He wouldn't be that stupid," Bozer said.

"No the Ghost isn't stupid, but we will be able to get the address." Mac murmured. Everyone turned to stare at him. "He wouldn't want the fun to end too soon." The others exchanged worried glances at the bitterness in the blonde's tone. Mac didn't notice he stood one arm across his chest the other rubbing his chin as he studied the video carefully.

"Mac?" Jack asked. Mac threw down his paper clip which was a chaotic jumble and refused to look at the others.

"Riley can you focus on the ceiling." Mac stepped forward; head cocked to the side. His eyes traveled along the wires studying how they linked each other. He let out a breath and rubbed his face.

"Mac?" Jack's voice was demanding. Mac looked at him and ignored the question under the question.

"These are thermite devices, probably white phosphorous." The other four looked surprised.

"Like what they used in Vietnam?" Bozer asked. They all had seen pictures of victims burned by the gel that once on the skin would eat through skin, muscles, and bone until it snuffed out from lack of fuel.

"And other places," Jack growled sharing a knowing look with Matty.

"Why do they all have different timers?" Bozer asked.

"They're fake outs; you don't know which timer is going to go off or when."

"So you could be defusing the one closer to going off…"

"Mac, there have to be at least 50 bombs on that ceiling," Riley said her eyes wide with worry. Mac nodded.

"Anything?"

"Almost, I'm finding the third tower to triangulate." Mac looked at Jack who nodded.

"Send it to our phones, Ri," Jack said heading for the door. Mac paused.

"Riley he's gonna have a camera somewhere in that room, trace it?"

"Yeah."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack's phone dinged. Mac picked it up from the middle console in the GTO. He rattled off the address. Jack glanced behind them in his side view mirror then gunned the engine and pulled an illegal U-turn to a chorus of horns and tire screeches. Jack glanced over at his silent partner who looked like he'd taken a sip of water only to find out it's vinegar.

"What?" Mac threw the phone back to the center of the car.

"It's an apartment building."

"Shit. Riley call for an evac?" Mac nodded. "Then why are you not a smidge happier?"

"I don't think they're going to find anyone in the building." Jack's jaw tightened.

"You think he killed them all?" Mac glared out the side window watching as LA blurred past.

"Not yet." Jack swerved into oncoming traffic to get around a slow moving trailer; he scooted back into his lane seconds before they had a head-on collision.

"What do you mean?"

"Take this right," Mac said. Jack down shifted then spun the wheel sliding the car to the side then into a small alley that opened into a parking lot in front of the apartment building. Flashing police lights flared along side a square tan brick building. The same tan brick as in the video, Mac noted. Jack squealed to a stop off to the side of the cordon of police. Mac was out and striding up to the officer, a lieutenant barking orders over the swirling chaos. Jack reached the man first and smoothed things over offering his ID. Mac ignored them studying the building.

"How many apartments?"

"Eight, we haven't found anyone." The lieutenant scowled. Jack glanced at Mac amazed again how smart the kid was. Mac stepped forward to the bomb squad circled in a conference. They looked up at him surprised. Jack and the Lieutenant stepped up to them.

"What have you got?" Mac asked. An older man pulled off the green padded helmet with a puffy tube hanging off the back like a tail. He wiped at sweat and shook his head.

"We have no idea! There's a door in the middle of the apartment that looks like a bunker not made too long ago. There's a steel door bolted shut. We're bringing up a torch now." Jack winced and glanced at Mac. Jack's alarm faded when he saw Mac wasn't worried. Mac looked at the older man and nodded.

"Once you get through do not enter." The older man looked at the other members of the bomb squad who were taking off their helmets.

"What? Who the hell…" Mac huffed and handed out his phone. The bomb squad leaned over it and mumbled amidst themselves a long minute. Finally, the older man looked up and shook his head.

"What is that? We've never seen anything like that." Mac rubbed his face.

"I have." Mac looked over at a pair of men wearing fire men's gear. They waved. Mac turned to go inside. He paused swiveling to the bomb squad who were putting their helmets back on. "Stay out here."

"What…you need…" Mac considered a second.

"I need baking soda. Then you all need to stay out here." Mac glanced at Jack who shook his head and laughed. Mac smiled and rolled his eyes.

"What about a suit?"

"I don't need one," Mac said softly turning to follow Jack.

"But…" Mac flashed the man a grim smile.

"If I screw up a suit isn't going to make any difference."

The building had the rubber smell all buildings built in the 1950s seemed to have. There were two levels a small stair case led down and another up. An officer there stopped them and talked on his radio before letting them pass. Jack stopped and told the man to evacuate all the cops in the building. Mac followed the directions from the cop at the top of the second floor.

Mac stepped forward. The officer hadn't been wrong. The short hallway seemed to end abruptly at a brick wall with a steel door in the center of it. The structure was obviously out of place. The walls of the hallway around it were coffee stained and peeling, the brown carpet warped and worn by years of traffic. The brick on the bunker was new. Mac estimated less than six months. Mac swallowed picturing the planning and work that would be needed to complete the project. Mac's stomach dropped as he realized he'd been in the Ghost's cross hairs a long time and the bomber was sparing no expense for his sick game. Mac shoved everything aside as he focused on the two men waiting near The glowing around a hole on the side of the door where a handle had been. Mac nodded at them and studied the door.

He didn't see any wires or signs of trip wires. He bent and looked at the mother and three kids.

"We asked them not to move." One of the firemen whispered.

"Good job." Mac bent and studied the room. He could see three timers that would go off in the next five minutes. Mac frowned. He noted that the light came from above the door. Was that another bomb? Sweat beaded down Mac's face from the heat of the glowing metal. He rubbed it out of his eyes. His instincts told him there was another bomb. The more he thought about it; Mac decided it wouldn't be near the door. It wouldn't add more destruction to the explosion. Mac coughed and straightened taking a breath feeling dizzy. It wasn't dramatic enough for the Ghost.

Mac looked up at a young officer came running up with an armload of baking soda boxes. Mac nodded his thanks and told him to drop them beside the door.

"What are those for?" Jack asked. Mac looked at him with hollow eyes.

"In case I mess up." Mac turned to the officer. "What's below this?"

"The furnace…" Mac nodded. That was more like the Ghost, but there was still something...Mac looked through the door again and froze. Around the bench the Leary family huddled on was a dim outline of a piece of metal. Mac met the mom's eyes.

"I'm going to get you out of there, I promise. But you can't move when we open this door." The woman stared at him a long minute then nodded. She tightened her grip on the three kids and murmured to them. Mac turned to the firemen. They held a door opener. It was a combination of a car jack and small jaws of life. Mac reached out for the opener. The men holding it handed it over without question.

"I need one of the railings," Mac said.

"A what?"

"A railing, one of the ones from the stair way."

"It's wood it…" Jack could see Mac's patience wearing thin.

"Look, trust me if he says he needs it, it's important." The two men nodded and left at a trot. Mac shot Jack a thankful smile. He inserted and cranked the door opener. With a nod at Jack, the two men pulled. They almost fell over. Instead of the rusted heavy door they expected, the door opened as easily as a wooden door.

"That was easy," Jack commented. Mac nodded feeling the same unease. Easy, when dealing with someone like the Ghost, never boded well. The youngest child, a girl with blond curly hair scrambled to the door. Her mom held her looking at Mac desperately. Jack stepped to the door.

"Hey, sweet heart, what's your name?" Mac shook his head smiling. Jack was such a contradiction it never ceased to amaze Mac. On the one hand, he's as lethal as a jungle cat, on the other, he could the most chaotic situation with his soft words and kind eyes.

"Lizzy." The girl pronounced it Lithy.

"Well, how old are you, Lizzy, you are such a big girl…" Mac tuned out his partner as he heard a loud buzz and snapped. Two of the timers reached zero. Mac's breath caught in his throat. One over the small family let out a puff of smoke, then nothing. The other over in the corner of the room spat light smoke and splattered a sizzling liquid in the corner of the chamber.

"Shit," Mac growled. He was grateful the family had not burned, but the white worms of which smoke could kill them just as quickly and if it didn't Mac guessed one of the main braces holding this bunker up would be under it. As much as it burned through the body, it burned through most other substances. Mac grabbed a pair of baking soda boxes and dashed in waving the smoke out of his face. His lungs felt charred on contact; he tasted tin in his mouth. Mac scattered baking soda heavily over as many of the splattered liquid as he could. They bubbled then stopped burning. Mac coughed and turned back to Jack who stood anxiously at the door. In one hand he held the banister.

"Are the others…?" Mac rasped.

"Evaced the only ones here are these two guys and us; they refuse to leave." Mac nodded and coughed as he reached out for the banister. Jack went to step by his side. Mac stopped him with a hand on his chest. Jack opened his mouth to blast his partner. Mac spoke before he got the chance.

"I need you to get the Learys out fast, then after I clear the door, slam it shut." Jack scowled. Mac sighed. "Jack, there's going to be a hell of an explosion we have to keep it inside the room." Mac paused looking at the hold in the door and frowned. He looked at the two firemen. "Find something to cover the hole; a sauce pan would be good." They nodded and took off at a run. Mac threw Jack a cocky grin. Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head. Mac glanced at the plethora of timers. He had two minutes on the lowest one. Mac stepped forward careful to avoid the pressure plate. He offered a smile to the family. Mac slowly placed the hand rail in the center of the plate beside the bench. He slowly eased it upright until it brushed the wires on the ceiling. Mac blinked sweat out of his eyes as he navigated the nest of wires, tubes, and timers.

The kids squirmed demanding to move, to run away. Mac heard their Mom and Jack talking to them. Mac ignored it all and pushed harder against the wooden pole until he felt a small sinking. He glanced at the family.

"Go!" He told them. As they jumped off the bench, Mac pushed the railing, so it put more pressure on the plate maintaining the same amount of giving. He paused his heart thumping. He glanced over his shoulder. Mrs. Leary shepherded the kids out. Mac could see a sauce pan shoved into the still glowing hole. Mac nodded to himself that would help keep it in place. He heard three buzzes. Mac pulled the railing away from the pressure plate. Mac took two steps to the door then dove for it. In midair, Mac felt his back get splattered with white phosphorous. Mac screamed the agony seared his flesh. He was dimly aware of hands pulling him out and the metal door slamming shut. Jack laid over him protecting Mac as the bunker shook with a massive detonation. Mac moaned barely aware of it. Jack bent over and was saying something Mac couldn't make out anything over his cries of pain. Mac grabbed Jack's arm, his face a mask of pain. Mac panted but the acid burned through his flesh and he couldn't suck in air. His heart beat again became wild and irregular. Everything blurred away to blackness.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack's hands circled Mac's forearms, and Jack had halfway pulled him out of the bunker when Mac screamed. Jack's heart seized as he dropped Mac on the brown carpet. He was dimly aware of one of the firemen slamming the heavy door closed. Jack laid across Mac to protect him. The bomb in the bunker was ear shattering. Old ceiling tiles disintegrated around them, but the thick metal door held. Jack bent down to Mac's face. Every groan of agony felt like a punch to Jack's gut. Mac grabbed Jack's arm with a death grip, silently pleading for relief.

"Mac, hang on." Jack murmured, "Get the baking soda over here." He yelled at one of the firemen. Mac's breathing was labored, and Jack could feel Mac's body tremble under his hands. The fireman scrambled over with three boxes in his hands. Jack gently rolled Mac onto his stomach. Mac cried out. Jack winced. White smoke rose from Mac's back. The cloying smell of garlic and charred flesh made Jack's stomach churn. There were two deeper burns surrounded with a constellation of smaller circular drip sites. The tattered remains of Mac's shirt smoked. Jack could feel the heat still radiating from the site. He poured the baking soda over the site. At first, it sizzled and boiled like acid. Jack kept pouring until a thick layer of powder covered Mac's whole back, and there was no smell or heat.

"Matty…" Jack panted.

"A Phoenix ambulance is en route." Jack heard his three teammates talking but tuned them out. Mac was gasping for air. Jack felt as if his heart stopped. He gently rolled Mac back on his side with his head in Jack's lap. Mac gulped in air and was ghostly pale, but his face had lost the desperate agony. Jack brushed the hair away from Mac's sweaty face.

"You are gonna kill me yet, brother," Jack whispered closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Mac moaned and moved. Jack glanced down. Mac's lips were a pale line of determination. Jack realized the kid was trying to sit up. "Stop it, dammit," Jack said putting his hand on Mac's shoulder to forestall any movement.

Mac slowly focused on Jack's face with a dark glare. Jack rolled his eyes. He moved his arm away from Mac's shoulder.

"Go ahead, if you think you can." Mac grimaced and closed his eyes groaning as he pushed with all his strength against the old brown carpet. After a few seconds, he gave up with an angry scowl. He glared at Jack.

"Jack…please, I have to…" Mac gasped closing his eyes which had begun to rain automatic tears of pain and frustration.

"Nothing, you have to nothing until we get you to medical." Mac closed his eyes then forced them open.

"All those people...can't die again...not again...please…" Mac's voice warbled with too many emotions for Jack to decipher. Jack frowned. He knew Mac was right, the Ghost had an entire building of people, and Jack could only guess what his plan was for them, but Jack also knew Mac would kill himself if he didn't stop to get patched up. Jack's spoke in the gentle voice he saved for Mac when he was hurt.

"I know, kiddo. We'll help them I promise." Mac studied his face for a long minute then he nodded and closed his eyes. Jack could feel him relax. Jack looked up as a gurney wheeled toward them fast. He was surprised Sally Weathers, the chief nurse at Phoenix wasn't leading the pack of medics. Another nurse, this one older with a twisted wreath of white hair with silver highlights strode toward them with the determination and force of a wrecking ball. Jack smiled. This nurse must be Laura. Neither Jack or Mac had met her yet, and if Sally was honest about her descriptions, neither wanted to.

Laura had a nose that looked like an eagle's beak, and her eyes were steel gray. Jack could almost physically feel them rake over his body. Jack gulped. It was rare, but Jack had to admit, the woman intimidated him. She bent over Mac taking in everything in one glance. She took command like an army general, and everyone in the hall jumped to follow her softly croaked instructions, including Jack. Mac cried out as they lifted him onto the gurney. Mac's eyes opened and desperatly shifted looking for Jack. Jack moved into view and held Mac's hand. Mac smiled weakly and closed his eyes relaxing again. Laura scowled at him. Jack stared at her daring to say a word. Laura's mouth quirked and she nodded. When they climbed into the ambulance, Laura let Jack in first so he could be in Mac's line of sight. She moved with a practiced smoothness that was fast but seemed almost casual. Jack didn't think there was a situation where this woman would ever be flustered. Mac's eyes shot open as an oxygen mask slid over his face and an IV inserted. Laura pushed in a vial of pain medicine. Mac's eyes drifted open unfocused and realized his partner's trembling had become uncontrollable shaking.. Jack shot Laura a worried look. The nurse shot Jack a smile that was not calming but was oddly reassuring as if she promised Mac would get better even if she had to kick death in the balls to make it happen. Jack chuckled to himself. He didn't think even death would mess with this nurse, Jack sure as hell wouldn't.

"This next part isn't going to be pleasant," Laura said her voice was a whispery croak. Jack swallowed and nodded. He held Mac's hand and put an arm on his partner's shoulder. Laura and the other medic cut off Mac's shirt then poured fluids gently over the burns. Laura bent over Mac and slowly tweezered out the biggest pieces of cloth in the wounds. Jack closed his eyes and looked away. Blood and puss poured in rivulets down Mac's back. The largest burn just to the left of his spine had a small patch of bone shining at its cried out and arched away from the pain. Jack could feel his hand go numb from the strength of Mac's grip.

"The worst part's over," Laura said softly. Jack's eyebrows raised. Instead of a soothing tone, her grating voice sounded like an order-calm down or else. Mac's eyes flooded with tears and he whimpered looking at Jack with a heartbreaking plea.

"It's ok, brother. We're almost there." Jack rubbed Mac's shoulder gently. Mac closed his eyes and nodded. Mac didn't relax, and his shaking became an earthquake. Jack shot Laura a worried look. She put gel on the burns and loosely wrapped them in non-stick gauze. The medic draped Mac in another thicker blanket.

Ten minutes later they were wheeling Mac into medical. Jack was vaguely aware of passing Matty, Riley, and Bozer but didn't spare them a glance. Doc Carl greeted them at the swinging doors of triage. He listened to Laura and babbled out a long stream of orders. Laura was back so quickly Jack was sure she'd telepathically known what the doc was going to say. Mac looked around him tense shaking with fear. Jack spoke in their reassuring code. Doc Carl looked at Mac's back then glanced at Jack.

"Mac said it was white phosphorus." Jack offered. The doctor's eyes narrowed. Jack explained everything that happened over the last 48 hours. Jack grimaced, had it only been two days? It felt like forever.

"He went asystole?" Doc Carl asked.

"If that means he had no pulse, yeah?"

"For how long?" Jack thought back-a year? A century? He shook his head.

"I don't know. It felt like forever." Even though Doc Carl wore a mask, Jack could read the man's sympathy.

"I bet." He turned to talk to Laura who was already putting medical kits on Mac's cart. Jack smiled.

"Are you a telepath?" He asked. Laura rolled her eyes. Doc Carl chuckled.

"She won't admit it, but I think she is." Laura sighed and shook her head. Mac moaned as Doc Carl poured fluid over the burns. Doc Carl looked over at Laura who handed him a syringe already filled with medicine. Doc Carl pushed it through the kid's IV. Mac's eyes rolled shut, and his body stopped shuddering as his muscles relaxed. Jack held onto his partner's hand even though it had gone limp. Jack looked away as Doc Carl pulled out a small scalpel and began to dig out all the tiny bits of cloth. Mac moaned, and his hand squeezed Jack when the doc hit the deeper parts of, the bigger burns. Jack rubbed Mac's shoulder and babbled reassurance. Another eternity passed before Doc Carl flushed out the burns again. He put gel filler into the deep wounds then a two-colored foam pad. He met Jack's questioning gaze.

"Calcium alginate foam, it's made from sea weed. It helps protect against infection and speeds up healing." Jack nodded. The doctor and Laura pulled a large self-sticking plastic dressing over the foam pad then gauze and strips of white hospital tape. Doc Carl pulled off his gloves and mask. "We should admit him for a month, but I know you need him to get this Ghost asshole, so we'll let him sleep off the pain medicine then release him." The doctor shot Jack a serious look.

"He has to slow down, his system had taken quite a hit with the electric charge, and thermite burns…" Doc Carl shook his head and patted Mac's shoulder. It was a protective gesture Jack didn't think the doctor had realized he made. Jack nodded. He helped get Mac settled in a bed upstairs then called Bozer to sit with him. Jack pushed Mac's bangs back and smiled grimly. He had a Ghost to find and hurt, a lot.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A large monster with gleaming steel teeth chewed deep into him and shook him like a pit bull, he was trapped and about to be thrown into a deep inferno...MAC! 

Mac opened his eyes and looked around him with a gasp. He blinked Bozer's face into focus. Bozer shook his arm. Mac grimaced and put a hand over Bozer's.

"I'm awake." Mac yawned taking in their surroundings. He frowned. Phoenix medical? Mac rubbed his eyes and slowly pushed to sitting. He could only pull together flashes of memory. A lightning strike of agony flared across his back making him gasp. Bozer leaned in and helped him sit up. Mac closed his eyes feeling like all of his blood pooled in his feet. Mac blinked up at Bozer.

"Where's Jack?"

"Riley figured out where the Ghost's videos are coming from they went to check it out." Mac scrambled to the side of the bed then had to stop a minute while the spiraling world settled.

"Why didn't they come get me…" Mac growled.

"Matty got in touch with Charlie Robinson, and he hooked us up with an explosives expert here in the LA field office." Bozer trailed off at the sharp glare Mac was giving him.

"Mac don't be mad at me!" Mac smiled.

"I'm not, Boze. It's just there isn't an FBI EOD expert based out of LA."

"Maybe they pulled one in?" Mac frowned and yawned.

"Maybe...we have to…" Mac trailed off as Laura entered. Mac smiled as Bozer shrank back completely intimidated by this nurse. Mac studied her. She didn't have the over happy demeanor that Mac hated in nurses. "I have to get out of here." He said to her, his voice sharp preparing for an argument. Laura raised an eye brow and shrugged.

"OK, let me get off your IV, you'll have to find your own clothes." Mac's mouth fell open.

"You aren't going to argue?" Mac asked.

"Why should I argue? You're a big boy you have the right to refuse care. After you crash, they'll bring you back."

"After I crash?" Mac asked amused. Laura leaned in close as she unplugged the IV. "I'm not here to bust your balls, and I'm not here to kiss your ass. It's up to you whether you want to stay or croak outside that door. Either way, I'm good."

"What? What kind of bed side manner is that?" Bozer asked eyes wide with indignation. Laura shrugged grabbed the tape and yanked it off in one sharp move. Mac yelped and rubbed the square on his forearm which no longer had any hair. He glared at the woman. Laura smiled.

"Need anything else?" Mac's eyes narrowed.

"Would it matter if I did?" Laura shrugged again.

"Depends on what it is, bye cutie, Mac." Mac raised an eyebrow and looked at Bozer who blushed and looked away.

"Cutie?" Bozer huffed and rolled his eyes. Mac slid out of bed onto his feet and clutched the bedside rail closing his eyes for a long minute. When everything stopped spinning, he slowly shuffled out of Medical. Bozer stayed beside him ready to catch Mac if he passed out. As they were waiting for the elevator, Mac stretched and leaned forward moaning in pain.

"Mac?" Bozer put a hand on his roomie's shoulder. Mac looked at him and attempted a smile.

"I'm ok, Boze, it's been a long day...days." Mac wiped the sweat from his forehead and put an arm over Bozer's shoulder to keep the room from swaying. "So what's this guy's name?" Mac said to take his mind off of how crappy he felt. It took Bozer a minute to realize Mac meant the FBI guy.

"Mort Dussman, I think, although he says it doozmun." Mac froze and looked at Bozer. "Mac? What's wrong?" Mac frowned chewing on his lip then his eyes widened. The elevator arrived.

"Boze, we have to go to the basement." The doors closed on Bozer's puzzled look.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mort Dussman came out of the abandoned warehouse. He pulled off the thick green padded suits of the bomb team. He was an older man whose pale skin seemed to have been taken off washed then put on too baggy. His hair was a short dark gray cap of whiskers. Jack frowned at him. He'd seen the guy somewhere; he couldn't place him. The man's dark eyes seemed shifty, oily somehow. Jack didn't know if it was because the man wasn't Mac or instinct, but Jack didn't trust Dussman an inch. Jack turned feeling Riley stare at him. She looked over to Dussman and raised a questioning eyebrow. Jack shrugged and shook his head.

"There were no trip wires, pressure plates or any IEDs I could see." Dussman had a soft, hoarse voice. Jack had noticed a pale roping scar crossing the front of the man's throat. It looked like it had been a wire garrote.

"That's weird, why wouldn't he have it covered?" Riley asked biting her lip.

"Maybe he ran out of explosives," Dussman suggested. Jack ran a hand through his short hair.

"Most likely he wants us to go in." Jack pulled his Baretta and led the way to the side door which was little more than a dangling piece of wood with jagged teeth of glass hanging from it. The warehouse only had one floor. The cement under their feet, along with the broken windows around and above them, was completely covered in graffiti. In the center of the vast empty expanse was a small table holding a flash drive. Riley set down her laptop and plugged it in. Her eyes widened as she looked at Jack in horror.

"C'mon we gotta move," Jack said shoving his Baretta away. He turned to Mort, "you might as well come too, even if Mac is up and about he's going to need help."

"Absolutely, anyway I can be of service." Jack's shoulders twitched at the man's words. It's probably his imagination.

They returned to Phoenix in record time. Matty studied the video on the flash drive with a scowl. There was a curling row of people kneeling unmoving with some explosive tied around their necks.

"Riley, do we know who they are or where?" Riley swallowed and looked like she was going to vomit.

"They are the missing people from the apartments."

"What? All of them?" Jack asked stepping closer to get a closer look. Some of the people wore bed clothes; others dressed for a night out, the rest were in some variation of daily clothes. Jack did notice a few in work uniforms. He closed his eyes at the children. "How many?" Jack asked softly.

"24," Riley said around a lump. Matty pointed at the collars and looked at Dussman.

"What do you make of that?" Dussman stepped forward and frowned.

"My best guess is C4 on a daisy chain…"

"We both know that's not true." Everyone whirled to see Mac leaning against the War room door frame. He stepped in slowly, leaning on Bozer.

"Mac!" Jack said his voice thick with relief. He frowned when Mac didn't acknowledge him but kept wary eyes on Dussman. Jack slowly pulled his Barretta out and held it along his leg. Matty and Riley started to demand answers. Mac ignored them too.

"Dussman? That's the best you could come up with? And Mort?" Mac shook his head stepping closer. He sent Jack a quick glance and smiled seeing his partner was ready.

"Mac, what the hell are you talking about?" Matty demanded. Mac smiled at her, but his eyes never left Dussman's face.

"Mort is the latin root for death and Dussman is Pashto for enemy."

"Pashto? What the hell is Pashto?" Dussman said puzzled. Mac smiled and slowly moved to the couch. If he didn't sit down, he was pretty sure he'd be falling.

"One of the two official languages in Afghanistan." Jack's eyes narrowed as he looked closer at the man comparing him with the split second memory. Jack slowly edged toward the door.

"Matty, Charlie didn't send this guy. He's out of reach for this entire month." Now all eyes bore into Dussman.

"So who are you?"

"Matty, he's the Ghost." Jack supplied. The Ghost slowly clapped his hands and looked at Mac amused.

"I'm impressed MacGyver, although the game is hardly over. If you excuse me, I'll be on my way." The Ghost turned to leave only to find his way blocked by Jack. Dussman rolled his eyes and pulled out a hand control that had two buttons. Jack aimed his Baretta at the man's head.

"Put it down," Jack growled.

"Or what?" The Ghost said. He turned to Mac. "You know what is going to happen, why don't you tell your friends?" Mac smiled and ran his hand through his hair.

"Well, Mr. Ghost here thinks that will set off four thermobaric IEDs which he placed along the main supports for the upper building." For the first time, the Ghost looked flustered. His eyes roamed the room looking for an escape route.

"And it probably woulda banged shit up if Mac hadn't figured it out and dumped them all in the sewer tank," Bozer added. He and Mac fist bumped. The Ghost's chin trembled and hatred burned from his eyes. He held up the detonator to push another button. Jack slammed his pistol across the man's face. The Ghost fell to his knees. Jack kneed him in the head, bent over him and punched him with a left jab and right haymaker. The Ghost collapsed flat on the ground, rolled over spitting blood from his broken mouth and grinned. He pushed a button before Jack could snatch it out of his hand. Jack growled and kicked the man in his head twice. The man fell unconscious.

Everyone looked at Mac whose pale face was translucent and horrified. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

"We aren't dead?" Bozer phrased it as a question. Mac rubbed his face and took a deep breath.

"No, Bozer we aren't but if we don't find those people and disarm every one of those bombs in time all those people will die."


	5. Chapter 5

Mac snarled and threwhis phone onto the dash. He leaned forward washing his face with his hands. Jack shot him a glance. Jack swerved across two lanes to squeal down an exit. It had taken Riley all of five minutes to find where the hostages were. Mac thrummed with stress and nerves. It was a fifteen-minute drive to the abandoned parking garage, ten with Jack's aggressive driving, but every second physically hurt Mac.

"What's up?" Jack asked skidding through a red light. Mac closed his eyes and shook his head. He glanced at Jack, his face a picture of misery.

"That bastard thinks of everything!" Mac snarled, "All of LA bomb squad have mysteriously come down with food poisoning." Jack's eyes widened.

"Holy shit. What about the Feebies or DHS?" Mac glared out the windshield bracing as Jack sent the GTO into a controlled slide so he could pass a tanker on the right.

"Someone called in bomb threats up and down the California coast; they're all busy." Mac clenched his right hand into a tight fist his knuckles blanching. Jack knew his partner desperately wanted to lash out or scream in worry, frustration or anger. Glancing over and Jack realized that fear overrode it all. Not fear for himself, that never entered Mac's thinking when he was trying to deal with dangerous situations, but for those 24 people. It was all on Mac now. Jack swallowed feeling his own fear flare. Jack slid into the empty parking lot, and the GTO growled as he skidded up the circular entrance to the second level. Police cars barred travel to the top level.

Jack jumped out pocketing the keys. Mac stood eyes closed leaning against the car breathing deeply. Jack was going to help him when Mac shot him a hard look. Jack nodded and followed his partner up the two flights of stairs. Mac's movement showed none of his physical injuries. Jack sighed. Mac was snipping away anything other than what he needed to get the job done. Things like pain, exhaustion or feelings would be dealt with later. Even the police submitted to Mac's game face. They stepped aside as Mac and Jack came to the roof of the parking garage.

The cement on the top floor was cracked, the cables that kept cars from driving off the building were rusted and frayed. Later that month the building was scheduled to be demolished, and work started on a replacement garage. Only Jack could see the extra glitter in Mac's eyes as he studied the line of people kneeling at the edge of the building. The air was cooling off as the pink sunset spread across the sky like a giant war bird. Jack put a hand on Mac's shoulder hoping to ease some of the pressure. Mac shrugged it off took a deep breath and crossed to the lieutenant who was overseeing the placement of bright lights. Jack put his own game face on and went to talk to the hostages.

Jack felt his jaw clench hard enough to make his teeth squeak. They were all ages. There were three older couples clearly in pain from kneeling on the concrete; there were families with children, the youngest a wailing baby held in the hands of a pregnant woman. Jack started with her. Jack's heart emptied. They all had small timers hanging from their necks. They all read the same -30 minutes. Jack glanced over at Mac and wondered if he knew. The haunted look in the kid's eyes said it all. Jack moved down the line offering what comfort he could.

There were few times in his life Mac wanted to curl in a corner and wail because of helplessness. He felt that now. Mac shook it away as he walked to the pregnant woman first. Mac swallowed physically feeling the knowledge that for all these people he stood in the gap between them and certain death. Even worse, Mac was once again put in the role of triage, deciding who lived or who died if he ran out of time or screwed up. Mac offered the woman a small smile pushing everything away.

"Hi, I'm Mac."

"I'm Mandy; this is Caleb." Mac could tell the woman was usually perky, but her eyes looked like reddened golf balls, terror and pain aged her face a few decades. Caleb was at the age that was between being a baby and a toddler. He was sniffling and clinging to his Mom's lap occasionally letting out a faint wail.

"Let's get you out of here." Hope blossomed in the woman's dark eyes, but she didn't say anything. Mac bent down to Caleb first and studied his short chubby neck. It was a simple RDX charged shaped, but like everything about the Ghost, it was more complicated. It had three separate detonators. The one that set off the explosive was a snapper detonator. Attached to that detonator was the LED timer and connected to that was a motion activated mercury fuse switch. Mac shook his head. It had been amazing that no one, especially this little guy had set theirs off with the restlessness that came with their plight.

Mac leaned forward with his swiss army knife. He paused turning as a bucket was wheeled up to him sloshing water. Mac nodded and carefully snipped the small foil wrapper that attached the sapper to the explosive. He cut the RDX turned and dropped the bomb into the water. Jack grabbed Caleb and stepped back trying to calm the boy. The mother gave Mac a genuine smile her eyes radiating gratitude. Mac ignored it. This RDX bomb had an entirely different configuration of detonators. Mac gritted his teeth. Knowing the Ghost, each bomb would be different slowing him down. Mac freed the woman and dumped the second bomb into the water.

Mac went into a hazy zone where the only thing that existed for him was the next bomb, the next wire, the next detonator. The only thing that broke through was his heartbeat, each pulsation counting down another second. Mac forced himself to work fast and efficiently but not to hurry. _You have feelings about the bomb; the bomb doesn't have feelings about you._ As he did whenever he was dismantling a bomb, Alfred Pena's soft voice drifted through his brain. It was like a comforting hand working with his, a solid presence reminding him of a step to take or avoid. In a way, Alfred Pena was always with him when he stepped on the narrow crack of life and death for him and others. It helped Mac put away the trauma and stress until later, freeing his body to focus 100% on the job at hand.

Mac wiped sweat from his forehead. He glanced up surprised to see he only had three left. A frail elderly couple and a muscular African-American man about his own age. Mac had three minutes left; he knew he wouldn't be able to free them all, maybe two if he were lucky. Mac's heart shredded as he looked at the old man kneeling with his shoulder's squared and his back straight and proud. His eyes were fierce. He glanced at his wife. He'd stretched to hold her hand. She was crying, but Mac saw the same strength in her. Mac swallowed and blinked away tears as he turned to the younger man.

As Mac bent to the man's collar, the man spoke in a gravelly voice Mac would have expected from someone twice his age.

"No, do them first." Mac blinked at him, "They are new grandparents and their daughter needs them to help with the kids, I got nobody." Mac hesitated. "Look I'm a soldier just like you, we know the drill." Mac nodded and rushed over to the older couple. He worked with a desperation and had them both free in two and a half minutes. Mac shoved them into Jack's surprised arms and dodged his partner's attempt to stop him. He leaped back to the remaining hostage.

"Get outta here, man." The man hissed at him. Mac ignored it. He glanced at the bomb and closed his eyes. He looked down 10 seconds left. The ghost had rigged this one with four different detonators. Mac looked up into the man's soft eyes.

"Go, dammit." The man yelled. The fear and resignation in the man's eyes were one Mac knew well. Mac turned and stumbled to his feet. He ran five steps then dropped to the cement. Mac covered his ears and screamed to equalize pressure. There was a long pause, enough for him to hope that maybe he was wrong, maybe there would be time. The world exploded around him cutting off any thought. The fire and heat expanded over Mac's body but was close enough to make the burns on his back scream in agony. Then came the pressure wave. Mac shouted saving his head from imploding. A shower of blood and meat rained down on him. Mac was lifted off the ground then slammed back to the hard surface. Mac tried to blink away the bright shadows in his vision. His ears felt muffled, and all he heard was a loud summer night's bug buzzing. Mac swallowed wincing at the iron taste of blood. He glanced up relieved to see Jack was ok. Jack had dragged the old couple to the police line and was on his return to Mac. He'd made it halfway before the explosion. He was sitting up and shaking his head, but Mac didn't see any injuries. Slowly Mac climbed to his knees. He knew a world of hurt was coming his way, but right now his pumping adrenaline tamped it down so he could move.

Mac's eyes widened. There was movement under his knees. A cracking line of cement had been jostled loose. The segment Mac sat on was separating from the others. Mac yelped and tried to roll to safety, but again he was too late. Mac screamed as the ground below him disappeared, and he was pulled after it.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack knew better than to try to talk to Mac when the younger man was in the zone, and he was definitely in the zone now. Jack had never seen Mac so focused and tuned into a task as he was now. The kid was like a fricking terminator moving smoothly and quickly. Jack helped get the released hostages to the large group of cops. He'd insisted the police keep their distance in case Mac misses one or ran out of time. Jack glanced at his watch 3 minutes left. Mac hesitated before the final three an older man who had to have served in WWII and his wife who had kept the home fires burning for him. It turned out that they were Mandy's grandparents and had moved here to help her with her kids. Her husband had died by friendly fire in Iraq.

Jack closed his eyes as Mac went to the young African-American. He knew Mac was going on pure logic knowing the younger man probably had a long life ahead of him. Jack hated that Mac again had to make those choices. The hostage said something to Mac and Mac veered over to the couple. Jack moved up behind him and helped the pair to their feet sending them over toward the cops. Jack reached for Mac's arm knowing there were only seconds left. Mac dodged his hands and ran to the last hostage. Jack glanced over at the couple. They stood in the center of the roof, the old woman leaning heavily on her husband unable to move.

"Dammit." Jack shot Mac a quick glance hoping to see the kid racing behind him. No such luck. Jack ran to the couple and scooped the woman up carrying her over to the waiting hands of the police. A pair of cops ran out and pulled in her husband. Jack whirled and started sprinting for Mac, knowing he was already too late. The explosion was a lot bigger than Jack thought it would be. It felt like a giant tackled him then stomped him under its boots. Jack blinked up into the night sky his head rattling. He sat up and shook his head trying to get his brain working. He glanced over to see Mac slowly pushing himself to his knees. Jack leaned back and sighed in relief. His blood froze as there was a loud grinding snap then Mac vanished under a hole under him. Jack blinked his brain taking a second to catch up to events. Jack pushed to his feet and dashed over to the hole. Powered concrete billowed up obscuring Mac for a long minute.

Mac had been lucky. The slab of concrete had dropped straight down and had not broken on impact. Through the cloud, Jack could make out Mac sprawled unconscious on top of the piece. The debris cleared and Jack's heart stuttered to a stop. Blood covered Mac. Jack had no idea how much of it was his or the final victims. Jack stepped back bracing for a leap down the hole. Two pairs of strong arms grabbed him and pulled him back from the edge.

"What the hell are you doing? I have to get down there."

"You can't help your partner if you break your neck." Jack stopped struggling and nodded. He pivoted and sprinted for the stairs. Jack huffed as he raced across the next level toward Mac. He stopped and froze; part relieved part terrified. Mac had vanished. Jack closed his eyes. Did the Ghost get him? Had this been his plan all along? Jack shook his head. The Ghost was good, pure evil but talented; he was a legend and creepy as hell, but he was not supernatural. It would have been impossible for him to know the floor would cave.

"He couldn't have gotten far." One of the cops said as he turned to talk on his radio. Jack didn't wait he turned and ran down the spiral entrance. He stopped sucking in air when he reached the bottom. A frenzy of ambulances, police cars and reporters blazed in a rainbow of bright lights. Jack grimaced and stepped into the shadows studying the area around him. There was no sign of Mac. Jack knew that there would be even more of a furor if Mac had come out covered in blood. That meant Mac had somehow snuck past the multitude swarming in front of him.

Jack realized Mac would have done the same thing as him, slid into the shadows. Jack ducked back into the pools of night. After walking about half a block, he saw Mac staggering drunkenly down an ominous alley. Jack frowned. Mac didn't appear to realize that the lane ended in a solid graffitied brick wall.

"MAC!" Jack yelled. His partner gave no indication he'd heard. Jack ran up to his side. Jack ducked around to the front of the kid blocking his path. Mac looked up at him. Jack put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Mac winced and pulled away turning to walk the other way. Jack again circled his friend.

"Now stop a minute," Jack growled. Mac looked up at him. Jack almost stepped back at the fire in Mac's eyes. He could feel the tightness of Mac's shoulder. It was as if he were a nuclear bomb contained by a kid's birthday balloon. "Hey, kiddo…"

"Not now, Jack." If he had screamed the words and then punched Jack into next week, Jack would have been happy. But Mac spoke in a tight calm voice.

"Mac, look I know you're hurting…" Mac stepped close. His eyes were ice pools of rage.

"Not. now." Mac's words had trouble crossing his gritted teeth. Jack took a step back. He knew Mac wasn't in his right mind, or anywhere the right planet. He considered knocking the kid out and dragging him back to one of the ambulances. Mac read this on his face. "If you take me over there, I will hate you forever." Jack's wind whooshed out as if he'd been gut-punched.

"C'mon, brother…" Jack said in a light tone not giving credence to the thought. Mac's eyes narrowed showing he was deadly serious. Jack decided to try something different. He turned and walked in step with Mac.

"Jack, leave me alone." There was more exhaustion in Mac's voice. Jack could tell the kid was coming down from survival mode. He didn't think Mac would be standing much longer. Jack honestly had no idea how he was even conscious. 

"So where are we going?" Jack asked. Mac shot him a vicious glare.

"Leave. Me. alone." Mac said his voice deep and menacing. Jack nodded and walked silently beside Mac. Mac growled but kept walking. They walked another block. Mac stumbled and moaned in pain. Jack steadied him automatically. Mac shoved him hard almost knocking Jack over.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Mac whirled only to fall onto one knee. Jack sighed and knelt beside Mac.

"Look, Mac. You know you can't go much further. Wouldn't you rather decide what you want to do now? Otherwise, I'll make a decision, and it will probably not be one you like." Mac tried to stand but ended up falling landing on his ass. The gore and dirt on the kid's face stood out dark against his pallor even in the dim light. Mac slapped the sidewalk with his hand and shook his head.

"Fine take me home, to my home, alone," Jack considered and nodded.

"Ok, but somebody has to come look at you." Mac's face twitched, and his Adam's apple bobbed. After fighting for control for a long minute, Mac finally nodded.

"Sally," Mac muttered. Jack's eyebrows hit his hairline. Sally? As much as they fought Jack thought she'd be the last person he'd want to see. Mac glared at him, daring him to say a word. Jack nodded

"Ok, Sally it is." Mac sighed and leaned forward holding his head with his hands. Jack expected him to cry, wanted him to cry, but Mac just sat still as a statue. Jack just wanted to wrap the kid in a big brother's hug until the pain and guilt strangling him was gone forever, but he knew Mac was barely keeping it together and couldn't handle falling apart right now. Jack called for a cab and then called Matty who understood how threadbare Mac was.

"I'll keep Riley and Bozer away as long as you need and I'll let Sally and Doc Carl know what's going on. Anything else you need?"

"Ten minutes with the Ghost?"

"Ten minutes? Is that all?" Jack smiled grimly.

"That's all he could survive." Matty was quiet for a few heartbeats.

"Take care of yourself too, Jack."

"Yeah," Jack growled and hung up. He glanced over at Mac who had withdrawn into himself. Jack put his hand on Mac's shoulder. His eyes widened. Mac's skin was cold, and he was vibrating, Jack could feel how taunt the kid's muscles were. Mac looked down at Jack's hand as if it were an unwanted infestation then looked away. Jack pulled his hand away and sighed. He felt like he was starting all over again. The cab pulled up five minutes later. Mac accepted Jack's help visibly reluctant. Jack told the driver the address then sat back. Jack yawned feeling his own adrenaline drain. He expected Mac to fall asleep, but the blond stared out the passenger window not seeing anything.

Jack felt relief when they got to Mac's house. The ride had been heavy with an uncomfortable silence. Jack paid the cabbie then crossed and helped Mac inside the apartment. Mac insisted Jack help him get set up for a shower. Jack set up the shower chair Mac kept handy because of the frequency of injuries. Mac demanded that he take off the dressings on Mac's back. Jack closed his eyes which stung with unfallen tears. The burns looked horrible-red and swollen along the dark chasms of missing tissue. Mac turned on the water and shut the door in Jack's face. Jack looked down and raised his fist; he wasn't sure if he wanted to knock on the door or deck his partner across the head. Jack took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. He couldn't imagine the trauma unfolding in the kid emotionally or physically. Jack figured that Mac deserved to be a fucked up asshole for once. Jack wrinkled his nose at the bloody clothes and decided to throw them away with the dressing knowing that much blood would never wash out. Jack yawned and rubbed his face. There was a soft knock at the door.

Jack let in Sally. She took off her jacket and set down a suitcase-sized medical bag. The elfin redhead looked up at Jack.

"How bad?" She asked. Jack rubbed his eyes which threatened to overflow. He told Sally everything. The nurse nodded saying nothing. Both looked up as the shower turned off. Sally and Jack shared a bracing look, then entered the lion's den.

Jack paused as he stepped into the bathroom. Mac's torso and legs were thick with black bruises. His burn sites were red, raw and dribbling rivulets of blood. Jack handed Mac a towel. Mac snatched it out of the older man's hand and dried his face. It didn't escape Jack or Sally's notice that Mac held it against his face longer than needed.

"Hey Mac, how about I do your dressing in here, you're dripping blood."

"Whatever," Mac grumbled. Sally nodded at Jack then retrieved her med kit. She cleaned and dressed the burns. Jack was surprised when Mac allowed Sally to check out his other wounds. Sally's frown raised Jack's anxiety. Mac dressed in sweats and an extra large T-shirt. Mac pushed himself to his feet and leaned against the door frame as he swayed. Both Sally and Jack reached out to grab his arms, he pulled away from them and staggered a step stumbling to his room.

Jack sighed feeling his guts knot with heartache. Mac slammed the door. Jack stared at it feeling like a dog abandoned at a shelter. Jack jumped as Sally gently grabbed his elbow and directed him to the living room. She led him over to the couch. Jack sat down and leaned his elbows on his knees. He held his head in his hands feeling hollow and wrung dry. He looked up to see Sally laying out a pillow. Jack met her eye. 

"What are you doing?" He growled. Sally smiled and sat down on the coffee table.

"You want to help Mac, right?" Jack nodded. That's all he ever wanted to do. "He is lost in a fog right now; he's lashing out because he's hurting."

"I know that."

"Do you?" Jack opened his mouth to reassure her when he stopped and thought about the pain and confusion swirling in his gut and closed his eyes hating himself. Sally put a hand on his shoulder. "Jack, you aren't yourself right now either. In the past two days, both of you have gone through hell. You watched Mac die!" Jack moved to stand tears running down his face. Sally gently pushed him back. "It's ok to admit you're only human, isn't that what you always tell Mac?" Sally bent and removed Jack's shoes. Jack watched her knowing he should stop her, but he just had nothing left. She pushed him down to lay on the pillow. Sally pulled a thick blanket over him, crouched, and softly ran her hand through his short hair.

"Don't worry; he's on my watch now. You rest then we'll put him back together, alright?" Jack smiled unable to keep his eyes open. He floated into a deep sleep. Sally smiled at the man. Mac was busted to pieces inside and outside, but Jack needed some help too. Sally stood up and turned off the lights in the living room. She left a soft light on in the kitchen. Sally squared her shoulders and braced for the hurricane she faced. Well, she wasn't named Weathers for nothing.

She tapped softly on the door and considered it a win when Mac hadn't screamed at her or barraged her with cursing. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and entered. Under a pile of covers, Mac laid on his side with his back to the door. A dim lamp was on beside the bed. Mac was breathing even. Sally smiled. He was still awake. Ever since she took in her sister to raise it was a trick Sally learned to spot a mile away. The breathing was even, too even, but Mac held the rest of his body stiffly waiting for her to leave. Sally didn't say a word only sat on the chair beside the bed and pulled out her laptop. She opened it and acted as if she were alone in the room. It took about half an hour.

"Leave me alone." Thick with sleep Mac's voice still carried a cold menace. Sally frowned.

"I don't want to." She said matter-of-factly.

"Get out! I don't need you anymore. Go home."

"I'm not going anywhere." Mac rolled over crying out in pain. His eyes were red with unshed tears. Sally didn't look up at him just kept typing and googling.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" Mac screamed grabbing the only thing he could reach and threw it at her as hard as he could. Sally caught the pillow and set it beside her studying her computer.

"Hmm. Have you ever been to Disney World?" She asked finally look up into Mac's red anger as if Mac had just handed her a cup of coffee. His chest puffed and he shook with rage. His white-knuckled fists clawed into the side of the bed. Sally thought he must be hearing his teeth crunch as his jaw flinched back and forth. Sally sighed and looked back down at the computer.

"I promised Sam I'd take her on vacation. She wants to go to Vegas, can you imagine? I told her they don't let ten-year-olds play poker she dramatically yelled what an unfair world it was then wailing went to her room. I can just imagine the mafia chasing us down when she cleaned them out. So no Vegas." Mac shook his head. He tried standing but swayed and fell back into bed. Mac gasped as he landed on his back. Sally stayed at her computer continuing as if nothing unusual was happening.

"Then I told her Disney World, she huffed and said no way it was too commercialized and plastic. After looking at their website, I think she's probably right. Besides I don't think any of the rides would interest her, my girl has no fear." Mac grimaced as he slowly moved in bed until he was again laying on the bed this time facing Sally. He panted for breath, and a fine sheen of sweat covered his face.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" His voice was tired and pleading. Sally rolled her eyes. She leaned forward.

"I told you, I don't want to." Mac's bottom lip trembled. Yelping in pain, he rolled over and put his back to Sally. Sally smiled.

"I thought about camping in the woods or something, but I like camping-lite-I need to have a toilet and shower at the very least. A cabin with a jacuzzi is my idea of the perfect camping trip." Sally grinned at a snort from Mac.

"Sam would like skydiving, but I ask you what sane person would step out of a perfectly good airplane? People worked centuries to keep you in the sky safely, why would you want to dishonor all their hard work?" Despite himself, a small chuckle escaped from MacGyver. Sally sighed. 

"Then there's whitewater rafting. To that, I say not only hell no, but oh hell fuck no." Mac full out laughed, but cut it off as if he realized he'd done a terrible thing. "Now there's a lot of museums, I thought about New York. There's MOMA, the metropolitan and we could do lots of Broadway. Unfortunately, unless it involves spies or Antebellum fashion Sam doesn't care. That's your fault you know."

"Elizabethan fashion?" Mac mumbled.

"Maybe, but no the spy thing after she kicked your ass at cards…"

"We broke even."

"Ok, whatever you say. After you spent three days playing cards, Sam has a crush on you."

"What? Why?"

"Hell, if I know. Maybe if Sam knew you like I do, she'd change her mind. She is determined to join MI6 and sneak in and break into casinos, like in Casino Royale. My girl." Sally didn't hide her love and pride. They sat in silence a long time. Sally could see Mac's body slowly relax.

"In Washington, they have the National Spy Museum." Mac offered his voice thick with sleep.

"Hmmm. Good idea, I'll look into it. Good night Mac."

"I hate you."

"I know you do kiddo; I don't mind," Mac mumbled something incoherent, a few minutes later he was softly snoring. Sally set her laptop aside and leaned forward studying the blond with grave concern. His wounds were deep this time. Sally hoped this wouldn't be the time Mac couldn't fix the cracks in his heart. Sally brushed aside her short red hair and wiped her face not at all surprised to feel damp on it. Sally stayed by his bedside. At least six times, he started awake gasping in fear from nightmares. Sally would sit beside him and rub his back or push his sweaty hair back from his face until he calmed and drifted into the sleep his battered body demanded.

Sally would occasionally check on Jack and had to do the same for him four times. Sally had worked with enough Veterans to know how to give emotional support while staying safe. Sally frowned she had to take Sam to school. Reluctantly she moved to wake Jack up at 6:30. He was flailing in a dream tears streaming down his face. Sally's heart broke when she heard the man cry for Mac with pain in his voice. Sally sat down on the coffee table bracing herself to wake him up when he bolted upright breathing hard.

"Easy Jack, you're ok, you're safe." She murmured helping him reorient. She gasped, surprised when he pulled her to him in a tight hug and started sobbing into her shoulder. Sally relaxed and tucked his head under her chin murmuring consolation and rocking him. Sally suspected Jack hadn't sobbed his pain out like that since his dad died, and perhaps not even then. Sally closed her eyes and took deep calming breaths using the even rhythm to soothe Jack.

In three days he'd seen his brother die, get life-threatening burns, and a whole lot of other things Sally couldn't imagine. Granted it was Mac who got the brunt of the hurt, but whatever happened to Mac happened to Jack with the added burn of feeling guilty because he didn't stop it. Then to have Mac turn away from him- Sally sighed as Jack's crying became an occasional hiccuping and he pulled away. Sally pulled a tissue out of her purse. Jack gave her a rueful smile and wiped his face and blew his nose. He opened his mouth, but Sally put a finger across his lips.

"Uh-uh-uh, no take-backsies." Jack raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You gave me the best hug of my career; you don't get to take it back by feeling sorry about it." Jac laughed and nodded. He looked up at her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Sweetheart, you are a national treasure." He said. Sally laughed and stood up.

"So I keep telling everybody!" She took a deep breath then told Jack how Mac did overnight. Jack wiped his face with the bottom of his T-shirt and nodded.

"Ok, Sally, I got it from here." Sally was glad to hear Jack's regular strength and determination had returned. She nodded and turned to leave. "Hey, thanks, I needed rest and to get some of that shit out of my system." Sally smiled.

"Duh." Jack laughed and shook his head. He brewed some coffee and tiptoed to Mac's room. Mac was curled up in a ball his back in the air and a stack of pillows under his torso. Jack smiled and yawned. Even in his sleep, Mac was an inventive genius. Of course, Jack reminded himself, the kid had probably worked hard to find a quasi-comfortable position, no mean feat with his injuries. Jack padded to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. He pulled clean clothes out of the closet Mac let him use and went to shower. Jack felt like he was losing pounds of stress. His muscles relaxed, and he leaned into the hot water groaning with relief. Jack stepped out when the water turned cool. Jack got out and glanced at his watch. He raised his eyebrows. He'd showered for almost 40 minutes.

"Holy crap." Jack dried and dressed and tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper. He yawned as he brewed a cup of coffee. It was half gone when he realized there was an empty cup on the table a note lying beside it. Jack swallowed feeling his heart plummet.

"No, no please no…" He mumbled.

 _Jack, I am so sorry about what a dick I was, you didn't deserve that._

"Neither did you," Jack whispered.

 _I'm ok; I promise I just need some time alone. Thanks, brother, Mac._ Jack dropped the note and ran to Mac's room. He closed his eyes and slumped against the doorway. Mac was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

The wipers of the GTO couldn't keep up with the sheets of rain running down the windshield. Jack blinked and rubbed his red-rimmed eyes. He hadn't slept since Mac had disappeared yesterday. Was it two days? Jack didn't even know what day it was. Being one of the best spies in the world, Riley had been unable to find him using everything she could touch. Bozer and Jack had gone through all of Mac's haunts and friends. Now there were only two places he would have gone-Mission City and his cabin.

Bozer was on his way to Mission City. Riley and Matty had set up emergency medical plans when they found Mac, or if he collapsed somewhere or...Jack forced himself to cut off the babble of scenarios. Jack had to believe that he was somewhere alive, maybe hurt, but fixable. Jack turned up the heat and defroster as the windows smoked over. He glanced at his watch- 2:40 AM. Jack huffed and shook his head. He took a long sip from his Jumbo Giant coffee; it was now cool, but he needed the caffeine.

If he wasn't here, what next? Jack cleared his throat feeling as if cold hands were squeezing the air out of the GTO. His mind took a dark turn. Would Mac hurt himself? Jack felt tears burn. Would he kill himself? Could he do that to Jack? Jack shook his head. No, of course, he couldn't. This is Mac, the ultimate survivor. Mac had been bent but never broken-real close, but never and never would be as long as breath remained in his body. Jack relaxed his hands. He hadn't noticed it, but he had been strangling the steering wheel.

The car skidded. Jack worked the wheel and managed not to slide into a river that had come across the road. Jack grimaced. They had predicted this storm to continue for the rest of the week. By then all the roads out to the cabin would be washed out. Matty said she'd have something set up to handle whatever mother nature threw at them. Doc Carl and Sally had given him a pharmacy and a half in two suitcases. They also sent a binder showing everything he needed to do no matter what condition he found Mac. Jack felt his stomach churn as he remembered the pictures and having to learn how to give shots and do an IV. He shook his head praying he never needed any of it.

Sally had him stab an orange over and over. He got the hang of it when he realized that it was like a downward thrust of a Gerber Mark II. Jack had been afraid he'd go too deep or hurt Mac worse. Sally reassured him saying 'aim for the meat.' Jack shook his head and chuckled. Mac always said Sally was an evil elf. She was something; he just wasn't sure what. She had made him practice putting on an IV in her forearm. It had taken five sticks. Sally never flinched only gave him advice for the next stick. He'd managed three before he fainted. Sally slapped him awake, gave him some water and put him back to it. When he landed it, he whooped, knocking it out. Jack still had chew marks in his ass. Jack felt sorry for her trainees; she was merciless especially when it came to MacGyver.

Jack had to steer into the wind to keep from blowing off the narrow, curvy dirt road. There was a one lane bridge ahead of him. Jack paused and leaned forward. He couldn't tell if it was in one piece or not. If it were, it wouldn't be for long. The usually small stream that ran under it was just below the rim and was raging like a tsunami. Jack said a brief prayer and sped the GTO over it. He gritted his teeth as he felt the wood sag under the tires and heard a loud snap. Jack didn't breathe until all four wheels were on the ground. He glanced back to see poles sticking up vertically as they ran downstream. Jack took a deep breath.

Another five minutes passed before he reached the driveway of Mac's cabin. The rustic structure sat on a high hill, so he didn't worry about flooding even though the bottom of the street had become part of the lake. Jack let out a relieved breath when he saw a small Fiesta rental in front of the cabin. He pulled up beside it and scanned the area around him, an automatic habit. Jack frowned. There were no other signs of life. The cabin had no lights, and there were none on the grounds, in the barn or the shed. The power could have gone out, and Mac could be asleep. Sure, that made sense. It didn't reassure Jack. His gut felt like it was twisting like a broken jump rope. Something was wrong, he could feel it.

Jack took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was why he was here. First thing first, the cabin. Jack knew the spare key was in a weatherproof box inside a rock Bozer had made. Jack cursed Bozer's talent as he went through every damn rock in the small piles on either side of the door. Finally, Jack found it. He wiped dirt off the key and rubbed his hands on his wet jeans. Jack shivered soaked. He went to unlock the door when it opened at his touch.

"Shit," Jack said putting the key into his pocket. He drew his Baretta and crept into the dark cabin. The car gave him a soft curtain of light. Jack left the door open and blinked the rain out of his eyes. He listened. Nothing moved, there was no sound of life. Jack breathed through his mouth making his respirations quieter in the silence they sounded like screams. After he pulled out an emergency lantern and lit it, Jack slinked forward a jungle cat in the darkness. Jack cleared the front room, kitchen, spare bedroom but paused before pushing into the master bedroom. He listened at the door and still heard nothing. He stood to the side and knocked.

"Mac? Buddy? You in there?" Jack strained to hear even the smallest whisper. Jack closed his eyes. He would have done anything to have the kid tell him off or snark at him. Jack pushed in the door then relaxed. Empty. Jack went back to the living room and started a fire in the pot stove and lit all of the hurricane lanterns giving the cabin a warm glow. He unloaded the car in record time then went back out to the GTO. He drove up to the shed, rows of tools and projects Mac was always going to get to lined shelves from top to ceiling, but no blond genius. Jack ducked as he again stepped into the solid wall of water. Jack skidded to the barn. He shook out his hair and wiped his face.

"Oh shit, no," Jack whispered. Mac had two rowboats, a blow-up raft, and a kayak. One of the rowboats was gone. Jack whirled and spun a donut in the car until the dim lights raked the dark water. Jack sat back and closed his eyes. More than halfway across the lake he could see the black shape of the rowboat drifting with the current. There was no sign of Mac. Jack bit his lip. Mac had taken the better of the two boats, the one without patches, the one with the motor. Jack gritted his teeth. Well, Jack would just have to work with what he had.

The boat trailer wasn't in the barn, and Jack couldn't see it which meant it had probably swept away into the lake. Jack grunted as he muscled the boat off its rack onto the sand. He winced at the crashing landing. Jack didn't have time to worry about it. He pulled using all the strength in his legs. The soaking sand made it easier to drag the boat to the edge of the water which was a lot closer because of flooding. Jack paused to run inside the garage and grab an emergency light, two life vests, and the mylar heat blanket from the first aid kit that hung on the wall. Mac may have failed out of the scouts, but the kid was always prepared. Jack grabbed two plastic oars slid into one of the life jackets and began to row into the blackness. The lantern provided a crisp circle of blue-white light, most of which bounced back off the waterfall of rain. It made the lake an eerie moving shadow. Jack could feel himself shiver. The boat almost jumped out of the water completely with the choppy waves. Jack rowed grimly. It felt like he was going in circles or staying in the same place because of the undertow. Periodically he would turn off the light, blink the tiny black slash into sight, and correct course toward it.

Jack had no idea how much time passed. He began to shiver, thoroughly soaked to the bone. Finally, he drew closer to the slowly circling boat. Jack's heart froze. Mac laid unconscious in the bottom of the vessel his body slowly moving with the ship. Jack looked close. The bottom of the boat had about six inches sloshing in the bottom. Mac was wearing his jeans and a hoody but no life jacket. If his head hadn't stayed on the plank seat in the rowboat, he would have drowned. Jack tied his boat to Mac's and grabbed the life jacket. He nimbly stepped over sloshing to Mac's side. He lifted Mac and frowned. The kid was not a good color in the lamp's light. Jack's hands trembled as he checked Mac's carotid. Jack let out a long breath. It was very slow but there.

Jack leaned Mac against him as he worked the life jacket on his partner. Jack frowned his entire backside was stained a thick dark color, as was the water in the bottom of the boat. Jack didn't have to see it to know it had to be blood. Jack tightened the straps then leaned Mac against the gunwale and jumped over to his boat.

"Hang on, brother, I got ya." Jack stuttered through chattering lips. He reached over and as gently as he could pulled Mac across the six inches separating the tied-together boats. It took longer than Jack wanted because he had to pause and adjust his balance, so they didn't tip over. Finally, he laid Mac out in the bottom of the boat. He cut the ropes, and Mac's rowboat slowly drifted away from them. Jack wrapped Mac in the silver mylar then sat him against the side of the boat.

"You are so going to owe me for this." Jack groused. He put both oars in the brackets and rowed with both oars for all he was worth. "What the hell were you coming out here for? Think the fish bite better in a monsoon? Maybe if they were the fucking kraken...heeh, Kraken, let loose the Kraken, right? Jack sucked in air and laughed, "Ok, I know you don't like the lame lines, but they're classics for a reason, and hey I got a date one time using that line...a cute little blond outside of Rio. It was a very good time." Jack smiled at the fond memory then scowled, "except for the slap down Sarah gave me when she got back from re-con." Jack rested a minute trying to suck in air through the constant water slapping against his face. He shook his head and took stock of where they were. Not too far, he told himself.

"You better be ok, bud, otherwise I'll let Sally have you, and she's looking for someone to go with her and Sam on vacation. Of course, our vacations are usually disasters...I guess you'd have a medic right there...I know how to do IVs now and guess who's going to be my first guinea pig, that's right bud." Jack couldn't be sure over the banshee wail of the storm, but he swore he heard Mac mumble a 'no.' He grinned and spat out the mouthful of water that'd earned him.

A few minutes later with a grinding thud, the boat stopped moving. Jack breathed out in relief. Jack felt something pull on his back as he grabbed the boat and slid it forward to ground it. Jack bent over and rubbed his back groaning. He straightened and ran up the hill to get the GTO. In seconds he returned and parked the car as close to the water as he dared. He grabbed Mac under his arms and dragged him to the passenger's back door. He shoved Mac inside bending the kid into a loose ball. Jack slammed the door and gunned the engine. The rear end fishtailed, and the eight cylinders roared like a pissed off elephant as the wheels slid and spun slowly up the hill.

Jack was huffing in pain when they finally wobbled to a stop in front of the cabin. At least he wasn't cold anymore; he felt like he'd had a double hour workout. Jack grabbed Mac out of the back seat and awkwardly carried him into the bright, warm cabin.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack's knees buckled as he laid Mac on the rug in the bathroom. He closed his eyes and grunted taking deep breaths. He knew he'd fucked up his back again. He forced himself to keep moving knowing that once he relaxed he wouldn't be running around for awhile. Jack gritted his teeth. He clicked on the light. Jack sat back and frowned. Mac had a sallow almost green-gray tint to his skin over which dark patches of bruises and cuts stood in contrast.

"Oh, kid," Jack said softly. He pushed himself off the side of the tub and gathered clothes, towels and everything he'd need to bandage Mac's burns. He paused long enough to take a palmful of ibuprophen then pulled back the bedding in the master bed. It was a king size bed. Jack frowned. He would have to sleep beside Mac tonight. There was no way Jack was going to leave his partner alone, but in an hour or two he'd be flat on his back for at least a day. Jack grunted with pain as he dragged the portable pharmacy into the bedroom. Jack pulled out painkillers, muscle relaxers, and antibiotics for Mac. He looked at the IV kit and bit his lip. Jack shook his head and shut the case. He wouldn't use that unless it was absolutely necessary. He leaned against the door frame and closed his eyes. It felt like a lightning bolt rolled from his hip down his right leg. His knees were questionable at best.

"Getting fucking old." Jack gritted. In his experience, getting shot was easier to deal with than a sprained back. He forced himself forward landing beside Mac. He sat Mac up and pulled at the back of his shirt. Jack winced at the bloody water that gushed from under the kid's dressing. It'll be a miracle if Mac doesn't get an infection. Mac's arms flopped down as Jack stretched and pulled the shirt over Mac's head. Mac's head slumped forward. Jack caught his friend and pulled him to his shoulder taking a minute to sigh. His partner was alive, and he was here with Jack. Jack wrinkled his nose. Mac smelled of mud, blood and something organic and unpleasant. Jack leaned Mac's front against a raised knee. Then moved to undo the front of Mac's pants.

"Jk?" Mac whispered near his ear. Jack grinned and gently brushed the dirty wet bangs out of the kid's face. He put a hand on Mac's shoulder. Mac slowly turned to him and blinked having trouble focusing. Mac's body twitched. Jack frowned until he realized that Mac was trying to move.

"Easy, kiddo. I have to get you cleaned up; you've been floating unconscious for who knows how long." Mac slowly blinked at him.

"Fl...ting?"

"Yeah." Jack gingerly shifted Mac's torso over to the tub, so Mac slumped against it. Jack turned on the water to get it warm. He stretched his back backward knowing this next part was going to suck. Jack clenched his teeth and groaned as he manhandled Mac into the tub. He sat Mac so his back faced the hand nozzle. Jack sprayed the grime off Mac's front and head then Jack rolled up some of the fatter towels into a thick cloth log which he used to support Mac's head and shoulders. He turned Mac's face to him and took a second to run his hands through the blond's hair. Mac's eyes slit open and he twitched his arm to swat Jack's hands away. Jack smiled and as carefully as he could hosed Mac clean

Jack had to pause and turn away gagging as the grime and gore ran out of the kid's burns on his back. Mac's eyes opened, and he gasped reaching out to push Jack away.

"Don't...please…" Jack's heart cracked at the cloud of pain and confusion in Mac's eyes. Jack leaned close and again brushed his hand through Mac's hair. 

"Easy, brother, I have to clean it before I dress it, ok?" Mac stared at him then ducked his head once. He closed his eyes and cradled his face in a bent arm. Jack patted his shoulder then focused on what he was doing. He pulled out a bottle and took in a shaking breath. "Hey, Mac?" He said leaning forward.

"Wh..?"

"Don't hate me, ok?" Mac shifted his face and gave Jack a one-eyed look.

"Wh..y?" Jack licked his dry lips then poured the disinfectant over Mac's back. It was some sort of cleaner/ gentle acid carbolic something or other. Mac leaned back eyes wide and howled in pain. He was breathing hard. Jack leaned forward and put his arm around Mac's shoulders. Mac grabbed his arm tight enough to leave half-moon indentations. "Stop." Mac pleaded.

"I know, I'm sorry, bud. Just another minute then I can rinse it off. Sally said it's a germ annihilator."

"Sally? Bitch." Mac said through gritted teeth. Jack raised an eyebrow relieved he wasn't in the hot seat for this one. Jack glanced at his watch then washed off the foaming liquid. Jack gagged at the smell of the greenish layer the soap removed. Jack paused closing his eyes and took a minute to breathe through the pain in his back. He shook his head and looked up relieved to see Mac slumped eyes closed. The guilt the kid was feeling was already crushing him. Jack didn't want to pile on. Jack dried Mac off as much as he could then carefully redressed the raw looking burns on Mac's back. He huffed in pain as he bent to wrestle Mac into a t-shirt. Jack leaned a second bracing himself then pulled Mac up and out of the tub landing him on the covered toilet before his knees gave out. Jack fell back yelling in pain.

The hot pulsing pain died down enough for Jack to move, but it was a wall pushing against every muscle as it moved. Jack managed to slide up Mac's sweats. Jack crouched in front of Mac and gently tapped his face. Mac slowly opened his eyes and blinked at Jack.

"Hey Mac, you ready to walk with me back to your room?" Mac's eyes slowly opened and closed. Jack shook his head.

"Good enough, I guess." Jack pulled Mac upright and put one of his partner's arms over his shoulder. To his credit, Mac tried to help, but he had all the sturdiness of a jellyfish. Jack was sweating, and the vein on his forehead popped out like a worm by the time he managed to sit Mac on the side of the bed closest to the door. Jack pulled Mac all the way on the bed then gently rolled him on his side with his back to the door. Jack wanted to be able to wake him up when he started to have nightmares. Jack paused to get a syringe and draw up pain medicine from a vial just as Sally had taught him. He got close to where he thought Sally had told him and stabbed making sure to 'aim for the meat.' Mac's leg twitched, and he mumbled something. Jack stepped back and grinned very pleased with himself. He dumped the needle in the red box in the kit then pulled a blanket over Mac.

Jack hobbled to the bathroom and took his shower. He made sure the stove was full of wood and put out the lanterns. The roof creaked as it withstood a wind that sounded like a giant toddler having a tantrum. Jack crossed to the kitchen and made a stack of sandwiches, one of which he munched on as he grabbed a bag of pretzels and two bottled drinks of water. He covered the sandwiches with clear wrap then painfully dragged himself to the bedroom. He turned out the lights and looked out the window. It was almost noon, but the sky looked like it was heading into the sunset. Jack put the food on the side table then hobbled to the other end of the bed. He pulled a blanket completely separate from Mac's cocoon. Mac tended to sprawl and got a bit territorial in his sleep.

Finally, Jack managed a not-so-graceful roll into bed and threw the covers over him. He gasped as his back spasmed readjusting to his reclined position. He sighed and closed his eyes sinking into painful exhaustion.

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The sky was a volcanic mix of black sulfurous rage and puffs of flaming pain. The sky was a thick blood red. Mac played in the bottom of a boat floating like a Viking in his funeral bier. He couldn't move, couldn't turn away. The waves slurped around him raising the ship then dropping it, every movement felt like a bladed whip scourging his back.

The wind howled, an animal sound of dying despair. Mac fought his way up to sitting. He gagged at the smell. The tide was a thick maroon. Dead fish and skeletal animals floated on the surface. The wind was a hot tongue lashing like sand in a sandstorm. Mac couldn't breathe.

"Why...why...why…" The wind moaned. Mac closed his eyes. _I tried to save you; I tried as hard as I could. Please forgive me._ He wanted to scream, but the wind stole his voice from deep within his throat and clogged his neck so he couldn't cry. He heard a splash and looked down at the swirling surf. A hand covered in blood was desperately reaching up to him. Mac turned and grabbed it pulling, he braced his feet against the gunwale and yanked using both hands and an arched back. There was a loud crunch, and he flipped back into the boat. He looked down in horror. He was holding a hand and forearm. Mac dropped it beside him and leaned over the side. He saw the face of the Ghost's last victim crying out to him as it was pulled deeper into the blood, his broken arm uselessly waving back up at Mac. Another hand reached out; Mac desperately paddled the boat to it with his hands. Before he could reach it, another rose, then another, and another. Soon Mac was surrounded by a pyre of arms, screams howled on the wind, desperate begging for salvation. Mac tried over and over but couldn't pull them to safety. Over and over he saw rippling faces screaming in terror get pulled under into the sea of blood.

"No, no. I just need more time. Please…" Mac managed to gag.

"You failed...we died because of you...failure...failure…" Tears burned down Mac's face as he tried harder to pull someone to safety. Just one, just let me save one, he silently begged. The waves churned with activity the boat swung side to side knocking Mac to his knees.

"No, no…" Mac panted. Slowly the bloody hands grabbed the edge of the boat and pulled it toward them. Mac tried to lean, compensating for the pull, it only caused the ship to tip more...slowly he was thrown from the boat, hot oily hands grabbed him and pulled him under the water...he choked…

"Mac!" Mac's eyes flew open, and he sucked in air, his chest heaving. Something grabbed his arms.

"No! NO!" Mac screamed pulling at the hands holding him. Mac pulled backward and fell off the boat, face first into the...carpet? What the hell? He blinked bringing the world into focus. He pushed against the carpet and managed to roll to his side. He closed his eyes as fireworks of agony burst across his back. Mac couldn't get in enough air. He was drowning…

"Mac, hey kid. Wake up!" A hand shook his shoulder. Mac sucked in a deeper breath and followed the voice. It took him a long minute to realize he was on the floor in his room at his cabin. A familiar face crowned with spiked hair looked down at him, dark eyes worried. Mac took a deeper breath releasing some of the panic. Then it all came back to him-the Ghost, the bombs. Mac closed his eyes and carefully beat back the tsunami of emotions flooding through him.

"Mac? Hey, bud? You with me?"

"What are you doing here?" All of the anger was gone, replaced by a sad weariness. Mac blinked in surprise as a grimace of pain crossed Jack's face.

"Are you alright?" Jack moaned and rolled back over to his side of the bed.

"Pulled a muscle or two hauling in your boat. What the hell were you doing on a rowboat in this storm anyway?" Mac blinked hissing in pain as he slowly climbed the bed with shaking arms. He cried out in pain as he rolled himself into bed until he was on his side facing Jack.

"Storm?" Jack turned his head and stared at Mac with worry. He pointed at the window. Mac saw the swirling waves of rain beating the windows. He swallowed and shook his head. "When did it start storming?" Jack looked over at Mac, eyes narrowed.

"Over a day ago, are you telling me you were out on that boat all that time?" Mac shrugged then winced.

"Guess so." He said softly.

"Mac, I swear one day I am going to put you on a leash and keep you in a pen! Dammit." Mac looked away and swallowed, moving to roll over. Jack sighed softly and put his hand on Mac's shoulder stopping him from turning away.

"Look, Mac, I know you're hurting, just stop running. Let me help you." Mac looked up and met Jack's eyes then closed his eyes. Mac scowled and looked down at his hip as he rubbed it. He turned to glare at Jack.

"What did you do?" Jack grinned.

"I gave you a shot." Mac sat up in one dizzying motion.

"YOU WHAT?"

"Yeah, Sally taught me. I know how to do IVs now too." Mac stared at his friend mouth agape in horror. He absently folded his arms across his chest as if he were protecting them from needle attack.

"What-why-how?" Jack laughed.

"Well, the monsoon outside cut off communication with Phoenix-even the satellite phones can't break through this mess, they figured you'd need rescuing again and decided I had to be up for it." Jack yawned.

"You? You pass out if you take a dog to get shots."

"True, you're easier than a dog, I guess. I can see why Sally likes it so much; it's kinda cool." Mac slid away from Jack.

"I don't know you." Jack laughed and pointed at the water and sandwiches on the table.

"Well, you better eat and drink then, because if I had to stick in an IV, I probably would pass out. Took me five times to get Sally." Mac shook his head and slowly reached over to grab the sandwiches and water. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. He helped Jack move pillows around so Jack could sit up to eat. The next twenty minutes were silent except the raging storm and the crunch of chewing. Mac swept the crumbs off the bed with his hand and turned on his side facing Jack. He studied his friend. Jack glanced at him and held out a palm.

"Stop that." He said around a mouthful of food.

"Stop what?" Mac's soft voice was dark with tragedy; it answered his question. Jack was caught chewing. Mac took advantage of Jack's inability to speak.

"Jack, I am so, so sorry…" He began. Mac turned away and pinched the bridge of his nose as tears stung his eyes. He sniffed and brushed his cheeks with his hand. "I…" Mac closed his mouth unable to say anything else. Jack finally swallowed and reached out to grab Mac at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

"Stop it. I was ready to beat your ass for running off like that." Mac's tears flooded the dam holding them. Jack grabbed Mac harder so he couldn't turn away. "Give me some credit, man. You think I don't know how much this shredded you? I just want to help Mac. Don't push me away. Particularly with this one." Mac glanced up at him puzzled. Jack sighed.

"What happened with the Ghost the first time? That was right before we met, wasn't it?" Mac looked down at his hands which he'd folded in his lap. He nodded. "Mac, it took a long time and a lot of effort to bring you out of the cave you got stuck in back then. No, don't turn away! It was completely worth it, you are completely worth it. I'm just saying, you don't have to go back into that hole."

Mac tried to blink tears out of his eyes, but there were too many. His breath hitched. He looked at Jack, his eyes pleading for something-absolution? Forgiveness? Penance? Mac leaned forward and put his face in his hands. His breath became deep hiccups he tried to swallow. Jack hissed in pain and reached over pulling Mac onto Jack's chest. Mac tried to pull away desperate to stop crying, stop feeling-even as his heart burst open and he caved into body rattling sobs.


	9. Chapter 9

Mac couldn't get comfortable. He'd fallen asleep curled against Jack's side until the older man moaned in pain as Jack shifted in his sleep. Mac had slid out from under Jack's protective arm and fought not to cry out as he rolled out of Jack's reach. Mac wiped his face. He glanced at Jack and shook his head. Damn the man. He wasn't ashamed of breaking down in front of his partner; lord knows they both had done that plenty of times, but the fact he needed to soured his stomach. Mac growled and rolled over his back and onto his side. It felt like a giant bird of prey was picking off meat.

Mac curled up and listened to the wailing storm outside. It was night; Mac had no idea of time. Hell, Mac snorted to himself, he didn't know what day it was. How long had Jack said he was floating out on the boat? 20 hours? More? Mac rubbed his face. Mac had taken the boat out to get away, to leave behind the faces and eyes that followed him everywhere. Mac closed his eyes and desperately reached for sleep. His skin was stretched too tight like it was a water balloon about to burst. Mac squirmed. He didn't want to wake Jack up, he'd put his friend through a lot already, but his muscles were twitching he had to do something. Mac jumped as the window shook from a hard splash of rain.

Mac sat up. He leaned on his knees and ran his hands through his hair. The guilt wasn't about beating the timer, exactly; he always knew that was a possible outcome with any bomb. That was something you came to terms with quickly as an EOD tech. Mac gritted his teeth. It always hurt and with each one you lost a little part of yourself, but you worked past it onto the next bomb. But these people, they had died because of him. The Ghost was probably the best bomb maker there ever had been. Ironically, Mac had learned more about explosives by taking his IEDs apart than any of the classes he'd taken in the army.

Even Pena who Mac had always thought of as the best of the best had been impressed-until he died. Mac closed his eyes, again seeing the charred smoking corpse of his mentor. Jack was right, Pena was much more than his CO, he had been the closest thing Mac had to a father figure Mac had ever had, until now. Mac smiled as he glanced over at Jack who sprawled flat on his back snoring like a logger. Of course, there was more to it than that; Jack was a brother, partner, friend, father-ish part of Mac. Mac swallowed and felt his eyes burn as he remembered what he'd said and how he'd run.

Without realizing it, Mac stood up and promptly fell back to the bed. Mac swallowed and closed his eyes as everything swirled around him. He bit his lip in frustration. His heart pounded wildly erratic. Mac went to punch the bed but paused, not wanting to wake up Jack. Mac glanced over at the older man. His snoring didn't break rhythm. Mac knew better than to trust that; there'd been countless times he'd seen Jack go from sprawled snoring unconsciousness to up into battle alert in one breath. Mac sighed thinking back to those times. Jack had made it bearable. It was true he liked disarming bombs, and he had to admit to being something of an adrenaline junkie. Who could do what they did and not be one? But the quiet times when the skeletons danced free of their compartments, those were the hard times. Jack always helped him through. Mac shook his head and pushed to his feet. He managed to stay standing but swayed.

He had to move; the wooden walls were suffocating him. He lurched toward the door and managed a shuffle holding onto the wall. He stopped to use the bathroom. Mac sighed and almost took a header to the tile as he bent and gathered the laundry. Flares of pain blurred the wall, and his pulse pounded through his head. He gritted his teeth and stumbled to the laundry room, tossing the dirty clothes into the hamper. He grabbed a broom and leaning on it slowly managed to sweep the dried mud trail that showed Mac's unconscious drag into the shelter. Mac paused leaning against the wall huffing. His tears watered and his body shook with the electric currents of pain in every muscle. Mac ignored it.

Glancing at the clock, he frowned. It was close to midnight. Mac crossed to the front door and stood to stare, hypnotized by the wash of rain against the glass in the wooden door. He couldn't see anything but nature's tears. Mac turned scowling at the thought. He crouched and put more wood in the stove and speared the dim embers. Mac stared at their glow. He felt the heat push against his skin, the flames, the smell of burning... _Hurry, please...I have a wife...Mac!..._ Mac shook his head and shut the door. He swayed to his feet and looked around the room. He felt claustrophobic. _They were locked in an adobe and brush hut, pushing through the bars, screaming...he ignored it all-the women, children, babies, his squad...the bomb had a complicated series of daisy chain bouncing betties and claymores. Ten minutes on the timer…  
_

Mac threw the poker across the room remembering to hold in his scream at the last second. Mac's heart and breathing were triple their normal speed. Desperation burned through every nerve. He couldn't stay, he had to go, had to get out...He whirled to run out the door and ran into Jack. Mac took a step back in surprise. Jack grabbed his arms. Mac tipped into panic pulling away as if Jack's grip was blades about to cut off his arm. Air shoved itself against his chest a wild owl fighting its cage. Everything was dark cold, smelled of ash... _burnt flesh, the look part resignation, part terror and worst part trust. Trust you won't fail them. They will be able to go home, to see their loved ones._

"Jack let go, what are you doing?" Mac asked peeling Jack's fingers off his arm. Jack's lips moved, but his words vanished in the storm inside Mac's body. The cabin shook with a mighty bang. Mac's eyes widened frantically. "Let go; we can still save them! There's still time! JACK, LET ME SAVE THEM!" Mac screamed the last. Another thunderous crack shook the cabin... _The first claymore shot him backward; Mac was stunned then came the second, third, fourth...each taking a piece of the building. The screaming was pure animal desperation...smells of charred flesh…_ "Al, come on! What are you waiting for? They're going to die, LET ME GO!"

Mac finally shook free; he dashed past Jack towards the door. Jack tripped him and leaned over Mac's back careful not to touch his burned areas. Mac howled in frustration.

"Let me go...why are you doing this? I CAN SAVE THEM!" Mac squirmed and tried to buck Jack off his back. He was too weak. His breathing was ragged. He saw the final one, the last one to save. _I'm a soldier like you; we know the drill._ "JACK!" Mac screamed.

"Mac, it's too late! It's too late!" Jack was almost screaming it in Mac's ear. Mac froze and blinked. He closed his eyes realizing where he was. It was too late; they were all gone. Mac let out a long breath. Jack carefully climbed off his friend as he felt Mac relax. Jack couldn't hide the soft moan of pain. Mac pushed to all fours then knelt back. "Mac?" Jack's voice seemed to be from far away. Mac jumped up and stumbled to the bathroom barely making it to the toilet as he lost whatever food he'd taken in a long time. Mac spat and wiped his mouth with toilet paper. He flushed then leaned over the sink and rinsed his mouth with mouthwash. Mac looked up at the ceiling and frowned. Had he just fainted? Mac moaned with the agony of his back as he fought to roll over and push himself up against the tub. He felt hot, suffocated, his heart throbbed like an open wound, and his back felt gouged by meat hooks. He pulled up his knees and leaned forward on them cradling his head in his crossed arms.

"Hey?"Jack asked from the doorway. Mac turned to look at his partner and frowned covering his eyes. Jack was pale and moved with stiff pain. Mac wanted to curl up into a ball and,,,? Mac had no idea. He was restless; he had to get ready for the next thing, protect the next one, do better, not fail…"Hey, Mac? You in there bud?" Mac felt Jack shake his arm.

"Jack…" He said softly, his voice hollow inside his arms. He stopped not even knowing what he wanted. Leave me alone? Tell me it's ok? Make everything better? Mac let out a deep breath and lifted his eyes to the corner of the tile between the floor and wall. He remembered laying this tile with his father. The floor was white, Mac never understood why people made floors white, and the walls were a light turquoise, his grandmother's favorite color. Mac jumped at a hand on his shoulder. Jack sank beside him with a small cry of pain. Mac swallowed.

"I didn't want to wake you up," Mac said steadfastly not looking at his partner.

"Nightmares?" Jack asked. Mac shook his head.

"Everything was too...tight." Mac blinked and rubbed his temples. He could feel Jack's body clench with worry. Mac tried to put into words what he didn't understand himself. "The walls, the darkness, the storm."

"The quiet?" Mac grimaced. Damn the man. He didn't answer. "You worked yourself into a panic attack." Mac didn't respond to the unasked question. Jack huffed with impatience.

"Why won't you let me help you?" His frustration made his voice sharper than he intended. Mac closed his eyes and sank his head into his arms. He waited for Jack to get up and leave. He yawned. Why don't they all leave him alone-the ghosts, the living...why do they always leave him alone? How could he expect Jack to navigate this whirlwind in his head if he couldn't? Instead of hearing footsteps, Mac felt an arm wrap carefully around his shoulders pulling him closer. Mac tried to swallow around a stone in his throat. He didn't deserve Jack's unconditional love and faithful care. As always Jack could read his mind.

"I get it, Mac." Jack's soft voice was calm and demanded no reply. Mac found himself leaning toward Jack without thinking about it-like a sunflower seeking the sun. Jack sighed. They sat in silence for a long time. Mac yawned, he felt calm but tired. "Do you think we can go get some rest now?" Jack asked. Mac smiled at the slight whine in his friend's voice until he realized how much his partner's back must be hurting. He shot Jack a distressed look. Jack rolled his eyes and slowly began to push himself up using the tub. Mac followed suit. It was a contest to see who could stand and stay standing first. When both were upright, they leaned on each other and staggered back to the bedroom.

"I'll sleep in the spare room," Mac said.

"No, you won't." Jack hissed in pain as he turned to sit on the bed. He closed his eyes as he sank down. Jack opened his eyes and looked into Mac's. "You aren't leaving my side until you figure out how to stop running," Mac smirked at him, his eyes traveling to the door. "Don't even think about it," Jack growled as he slowly lowered himself to the bed then breathed deeply as his body muscles relaxed. Mac sighed.

"Take some pain medicine, and I'll stay." Jack squinted up at him.

"You take your antibiotics and some pain medicine, and I'll take my meds."

"Then I don't have to stay?" Mac smiled mischievously. Jack narrowed his eyes.

"You take your meds, I'll take my meds, and we'll both try to sleep. It's been a seriously shitty week." Mac nodded looking down. He helped Jack get his pain pills then dutifully choked down the mountain of horse pills Sally had sent. Bitch. Mac owed her for teaching Jack to shoot him. Mac shuffled around to the other side. He sat down and watched the record-breaking storm outside. There was no thunder; he wondered what the loud booms he heard were if they were even real.

"How long is the storm suppose to last?" Jack sniffed and answered sleepily,

"Probably another two days, lay down." Mac yawned. He was exhausted but not tired. He watched the waves of rain run down the glass. Periodically a swell of wind would cause the water to rattle the window like a prisoner shaking the bars of his cell... _arms reached through the bars, faces scrunched begging in Pashto, hands begging to be pulled out..._ Mac squawked as the neck of his shirt was pulled causing him to roll back into bed. He turned to yell at Jack but found he couldn't talk. His body was shaking as much as it did when he was channeling lightening. Mac felt cold almost numb. Jack grunted in pain as he reached out pulled Mac straight in bed and tugged the blond's head onto his chest. Mac couldn't stop shaking. He felt as if a livewire traveled up and down his spine. Jack softly ran his hand up and down Mac's upper arm, and Mac knew he would be crooning the familiar mantra-Easy, you're ok, it's ok...But Mac couldn't hear anything except screams. He closed his eyes but only saw flashes of explosions. His breathing was a series of ineffective hiccups. Everything became a whirling film loop of Afghanistan, Pena's body, Jack standing on a pressure plate, the Ghost's current game, and a soldier whose name Mac didn't know but deserved much more than he got.

Jack frowned down at the kid. Mac wasn't calming down like he normally did. Jack put the back of his hand against Mac's forehead and scowled. He should have seen the signs sooner. He'd jumped awake at the sound of the poker embedding in the wall of the cabin. He was in the living room blocking Mac's run out the door before he even knew why he was awake. Mac was in some weird lucid dreaming state where he was reliving the past, seeing it play out in front of him, but still knew he was here with Jack. He was hot to the touch, sweaty and almost shaking them both off the bed. Jack blinked fighting the sleepiness from the pain pills. He gently disentangled Mac's hand from his shirt and rolled backward. Jack grunted his back hurt, but not as much as it had been. Better living through chemistry, he guessed.

He bent and got out the thermometer. It was some fancy thing Sally had packed. It didn't have to touch Mac's skin. Jack swept it across Mac's sweaty temple. 101.5. Not good, but Mac's had a lot worse. Of course, Jack reminded himself, that wasn't after being zapped by electricity, burned the hell out of, then floating in dirty water for a day or two. Mac reached out a shaking hand. Jack smiled and put it in his. Mac curled up into a fetal ball in the middle of the bed and buried himself under blankets. His eyes were closed, but Jack suspected he wasn't sleeping well if at all.

"Alright, here we go," Jack said bracing himself. He pulled out the thick binder and flipped through the tabs until he came to 'Infection / Fever.'


	10. Chapter 10

Jack studied the sprawled pile of blankets in the middle of the bed and frowned trying to figure out how to do the next step. As he'd feared the binder of instructions had said Mac's infection couldn't be fixed by pills alone. Jack had painstakingly followed every step, which Sally had been kind enough to augment with sticky notes on every page. Jack was pretty sure a monkey could have done it if a monkey could read. Jack looked at the fluids and tubing dangling off a nail over the bed. He swallowed back acidic fear as he looked at the covered needle on the table by the bedside. Jack forced himself to take deep breaths. As he saw it he had two objectives, 1) Get IV into Mac and 2) Not puke or pass out until it's taped down.

Jack sighed. Sally had driven that home when she'd woken him up with a cup of ice water in the face. She'd stood over him, hands on hips face flushed.

'Never pass out until it's taped down.' She'd growled before allowing him to get off the floor. Then he'd received a butt chewing worse than any he'd received in the Army. Jack rubbed his face and broke down his goal into steps. First, he had to restrain Mac somehow. Jack felt his stomach churn at the idea. He knew how many horror stories played over and over in the kid's head when faced with restraint under normal circumstances, let alone fevered and in pain.

There was no way Jack would be able to fight Mac while he tried to land an IV he already had barely a hope in hell of getting in as it was. Jack looked around the room. Mac's headboard was a simple padded board, no place to hang cuffs, which wouldn't hold Mac longer than a second anyway, even when he was out of it, not that Jack had any anyway. Jack glanced at the side of the bed. He could tie something to the bedframe, but what? Jack smiled an idea occurring to him. He went to the hall linen closet and pulled out two of the most worn top sheets he found. Jack chuckled. One was blue flannel with white sheep. Jack counted that as a mercy kill. The other one was a frayed beige sheet.

Jack tied one end of the sheep sheet to the edge of the bed. He threaded it through the pile of blankets making sure to cover the bottom half of Mac's body. Jack froze as Mac murmured in his sleep and moved a hand as if he were swatting something away from his face. Mac returned to sleep. Jack knew Mac wasn't feeling well by the depth of sleep he was getting. Jack crossed to the other side of the bed and tied the other end of the sheet down. He pulled it tight enough that Mac could move, but not enough that he could lift his legs. Mac mumbled and pushed blankets off him more restless. Jack winced. He estimated distance and size and cut a hole in the center of the sheet. Jack tied it down and carefully draped it over Mac's shoulder. Jack waited until Mac returned to sleep. Jack slowly lifted Mac's left arm and fed it through the hole. Mac leaned back and blindly tried to pull his arm out of the hole. Jack carefully cut the hole until Mac was comfortable and returned to snoring. Jack pulled the sheet tight and tied it down. Mac growled and tried to pull free. Jack knew the countdown had started and he had a small, shrinking window.

Jack gathered the IV supplies and prepped Mac's arm softly speaking each step exactly as Sally had told him. He grabbed Mac's wrist and pulled his arm taut. Mac's whole body shifted. Jack rubbed the alcohol along the inside of Mac's arm with the desperation he'd used when needing to start a fire while freezing to death. Jack studied Mac's arm. His stomach flip-flopped, sweat ran down his forehead. He swallowed and turned the younger man's arm so he'd have a better angle. Sally had taught him using actual photographs of Mac's arm. Evidently, she did the same with her interns to show them how to find a vein without being able to feel or see anything. Jack took a breath held it and shoved the needle in hoping for the best.

Mac cried out as his eyes blinked open. He tried to move his arm away. Jack held onto it hard enough to leave bruises. Jack felt his vision dimming. He shook his head. To his amazement he saw blood, Jack managed to connect the tubing, tape it down and open the clamp to the fluids before he passed out falling across Mac's legs.

Mac was hot; suffocating dust swirled around him choking him. He could just barely make out the outline of the boulders and cement that had fallen on him and pinned him. He could use his left arm, but there wasn't anything he could do with it. The cave in crushed his phone, there was nothing within reach. Mac had calculated the oxygen left for him to breath, and it would last only a few more seconds. He tried to stay calm, but couldn't control the pounding of his heart or the closing of his air passages. He was going to die, alone…

"JACK!" Mac screamed. His eyes snapped open. He desperately tried to move, to shift the rocks. Sweat and tears ran down his face. He felt another boulder land on his legs. Mac felt something in his hand. Blindly he smashed out with it. Mac choked but couldn't suck in air past the dust. His eyes rolled desperately; everything had become a blurry swirl of dust and stone. He couldn't move, there was no way out. He beat his left arm furiously putting his total focus on it. Maybe he could break his way out? Mac pulled and yelled in pain as he saw flesh on his arm tear and pull as he desperately yanked harder and harder. He could feel his shoulder joint extend as far as it could go, he pulled harder, the pain only fed his panic. He couldn't breathe.

Jack blinked and shook his head. It only took a second for him to snap back awake. He turned and blinked as he was pummelled over and over by the pillow. Jack moaned as he forced himself to sit back up. His back hurt like a son of a bitch. He forgot all of that as he took in Mac's wide, panicked eyes, wild thrashing, and silent choking attempts to get air.

"Shit," Jack muttered he pulled out his knife and cut the two sheets not wasting time on the knots. He grabbed Mac by the shoulders and pulled him to sit. Mac's head flopped backward. Mac automatically flailed as if he were drowning. No air was going in his panicked body. Jack shook him.

"MAC! Mac, wake up!" Nothing. Jack grimaced and slapped him. Mac's head recoiled from the blow. Mac swung a right upper jab. Jack leaned back. "Mac, c'mon brother." Jack shook Mac again. Mac's head flopped back and forth. "Breathe dammit." He leaned Mac forward. "I'm sorry partner." Jack gently patted Mac on the dressing covering his burns. Mac yelled in pain, then sucked in air. Jack let out a breath. Mac's eyes were slowly focusing. Jack leaned Mac against the crook of his arm and brushed the kid's bangs back. Jack frowned at how wet with sweat they were. Mac gasped his right hand automatically reaching out for the IV site. Jack held his hand. "Hey, buddy, you back with me yet?" Jack said softly.

Mac made a noise and slumped against Jack. Jack gently rubbed his back carefully avoiding his wounded areas.

"Hey, Mac. C'mon brother." Jack said softly. Mac's breathing was slowing, and his eyes darted around the room. Jack could still feel tension in his friend's body, but it was slowly easing. "I'm sorry about that, Mac." Mac blinked and turned his head. His eyes narrowed.

"Wh...what did you do?" Mac's voice was barely a whisper. Mac licked his lips. Jack smiled glad Mac was finally tracking. Mac put a hand behind him and pushed himself upright. Jack released him and reached over grabbing one of the half full bottles of water. Mac stared at the IV in his arm. His gaze bounced between Jack and the IV. "Wha...how...wh…?" Mac gasped. He licked his dry lips and wiped sweat from his face. Mac took in the tubing, the hanging bags, and the torn sheets. He leaned forward and accepted the bottle of water. He guzzled it dry.

Jack waited for the explosion. Mac shook his head and pushed the sheets off pivoting to the side of the bed. Jack reached out a hand to grab his shoulder. Mac glared at him. Jack sighed, what did he expect? Jack nodded and turned away.

"I'm not sure if I'm impressed or horrified." Mac jumped as the windows rattled smashed by another howling wave of rain. Jack smiled, and half turned his eyebrow raised.

"Be impressed." Mac looked over his shoulder with a wry smile.

"You passed out didn't you?"

"Like a ton of bricks." Mac's smile vanished, and he turned away. Jack scowled. "Mac? What's wrong? I know you're pissed, but you have a fever and…" Mac absently waved at him then rubbed his forehead.

"No, I get it, Jack. It's fine, really." Jack let out a relieved breath but could still feel tension humming in his friend.

"Then what's wrong?" Mac glanced at him and shook his head.

"I'm hungry, are you? I have some frozen pizzas." Jack studied Mac for a long second. He sighed.

"Sure I'll go make…"

"No I'll go, you look like the Hunchback of Notredame," Mac said with a smile. Jack grimaced as he straightened.

"I'm pretty sure I feel like him too." It took a couple of tries, but Mac managed to push himself to his feet. He paused looking at the tubing. He moaned as he reached up and unhooked them and slung the tubing over his back. "Don't fuck that up; I do not want to do that ever again." Mac snorted.

"That is oddly comforting."

"Afraid I'll turn into Sally?" Jack teased. Mac glared at Jack and shuddered. He reached out to catch himself on the wall as he swayed. Jack managed to stagger to his feet and cross to his partner. Mac accepted Jack's help closing his eyes. Jack's eyes widened as he felt how hot and sweaty Mac was. Mac glanced at him.

"Why don't we both go cook the pizza." Jack opened his mouth to protest. "Jack, I have to get out of this room." Jack could hear the note of anxiety.

"Ok, you got Netflix?" Mac looked at him like he was stupid. Jack chuckled as they leaned on each other and wobbled their way out to the kitchen. Before they reached it, everything went black. Jack froze tense automatically reaching for his Baretta and cursing himself for leaving it beside the bed.

"It's just the storm." Mac offered in a reassuring voice. Jack managed to take in a shaky breath forcing himself to stand down-a little. Mac led him to the living room with the warm crackling fire gave the room a comforting glow.

"So no pizza." Jack sighed. Mac chuckled.

"Really?" Jack saw Mac's smile gleam in the dim light. He rolled his eyes.

"Generator?" Mac scoffed.

"Do you feel up to stoking the fire?" He asked. Jack nodded forgetting Mac couldn't see. Jack let go of Mac and hissed in pain as he bent down and opened the stove. He put in more wood and poked the embers until he had a blazing fire.

Mac vanished into the kitchen. A second later there was a match flare and one of his emergency Coleman's glowed into life. Mac shook the match out and tossed it into the sink.

"Need help?" Jack asked lurching into the kitchen rubbing his back as he went. He felt like someone was trying to break his pelvis apart like a wishbone.

"Here." Mac handed him a pair of frozen pizzas. Mac grabbed a flat stone the size of a griddle and tried to hold in his groan of pain as he carried it over to the stove. He put it on the top then took a pizza and laid it on it to cook.

"That works?" Mac rolled his eyes.

"How do you think humans cooked thousands of years ago?"

"Well sure, but did they have cheap pizza to cook?" Jack snarked back. Mac opened his mouth then closed it shaking his head. Jack grinned. "I mean it probably right for a real T-Rex fillet mignon, but we have processed carbs now, man."

"Jack, humans and dinosaurs didn't live at the same time," Mac said grunting as he slowly lowered himself onto the couch. Jack hobbled over to the recliner.

"How do you know? T-Rex might have done some stone grilling of his own." Mac leaned forward and rubbed his temples gritting his teeth. "You know…"

"Jack!" Mac almost shouted. Jack looked at him surprised. Mac managed to turn his irritation into an approximation of a smile. "You know I'm kinda hurting; I don't suppose you could grab our pain meds could you?" Jack instantly looked at Mac with worry. He got up and walked as quickly as he could back to the bedroom. Mac felt guilty for pulling the pain card, but he couldn't handle Jack's warped history of the world. Mac closed his eyes listening to the relentless storm. The pizza smell made his mouth water as he looked around him for somewhere to hang the IV. The image of a T-Rex grilling in an apron that said 'Kiss the cook." refused to leave his brain.

"Dammit." He said softly.


	11. Chapter 11

****Apologies t those who live in and know Los Angeles. I know only what's on the net. The landmarks exist but have been changed to fit the needs of the story.

Mac's fever and the storm broke two days later. Both men slept and played cards. Jack wanted to improve his poker game, so he had a chance of winning against Sally's sister Sam. Mac threw the cards on the table and stretched. Jack placed his cards faced down on the table and studied his friend. Mac huffed, stood and went over to the front door. Mac looked a lot better, not as pale or haggard, but he still had a haunted shadow deep in the depths of his baby blues that Jack did not like. Mac had also gotten more restless, on edge. He had something gnawing at him. Every time Jack asked, Mac would shrug in frustration and shake his head unable to nail it down.

Soft rain still fell, but after the torment of the storm, it felt like a cleansing shower. Mac stepped out onto the porch and shrugged his shoulders. His burns still hurt like hell but they had healed enough to be itchy; it was maddening. Mac gazed out at the aftermath of the storm. The dock was damaged, the beach snaked with streaks of leaves and broken branches. Two old oaks had fallen one covering the drive, narrowly avoiding Jack's GTO the other leaned up against the barn. Mac crossed his arms. He felt uneasy. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Mac sighed and closed his eyes listening to the soft rain and reluctant bird singing. Jack stepped out beside him. Mac glanced over and offered a wry smile.

"At least it didn't land on the GTO." Jack chuckled. Before he could reply, Mac's phone rang. They both jumped then shared amused looks.

"It's Matty." Mac murmured as he answered the phone.

"Hey, Matty…" Jack began.

"The Ghost has escaped," Matty announced without preamble. The two men gaped at each other.

"What happened?" Mac asked clearing his throat. Jack eyed him seeing that tense shadow grow to worry.

"We aren't sure. He was transported to DHS, all we know is the cell block he was locked in exploded." Matty explained.

"The blast also took out the surveillance for the whole building." Riley chimed in; Mac frowned and ran a hand through his hair. He stared at the distant remains of his rowboat slowly circling in the currents like a floating twig.

"Mac? I can smell the smoke of those wheels spinning over here." Jack asked. Mac frowned.

"Why now?" Mac looked over at Jack. "He was able to walk through Phoenix enough to plant four bombs unnoticed; he could have left at any time."

"He probably was waiting out the storm." Riley offered. Mac smiled.

"Why? Escaping would have been easier with the storm as cover."

"So the question is…" Jack began.

"What's he up to." Maggy finished a sour look on her face. Jack's eyes narrowed, and he began to scan the area around them with suspicion. Mac didn't notice; Matty did.

"You think he's going there?" Matty asked stepping forward worry on her face.

"No, he's…" Mac began. Jack grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back into the cabin drawing his Baretta. Mac pulled free. "Jack what are you doing? Let me go." Jack let go of Mac and ducked looking out the windows as he pulled the shades. Mac huffed and turned his attention to Matty.

"He's not coming here, he's…" Mac's voice trailed off. Jack turned recognizing the tone and the faraway look.

"He's what?" Matty demanded. Mac glanced at Jack a worried look on his face.

"Riley, were any public services knocked out by the storm?" Mac said ignoring Matty.

"Uh...public sewage down by city hall, plumbing, electric but that's back up…" 

"Where?" Mac asked tensely. Riley rattled off a long list of blocks. Mac shook his head.

"Dammit! We have to get back to LA now." He said matching his urgent tone with movement.

"Mac, wait!" Jack again grabbed Mac by the shoulders. "What? What is it?" Mac growled with impatience.

"The nuclear sensor network nodes run along the same path as the electrical outages."

"He blew them up?" Jack asked wide-eyed.

"And used the storm to cover it up," Matty said whirling to Riley. Riley looked up from her laptop horrified.

"They're up, but not transmitting their readings."

"And?" Matty asked.

"Matty, they've been alerting all day."  
"The Ghost has nukes?" Jack asked. Mac's jaw clenched.

"No, but he probably has enough material to make dirty bombs."

"And he's had plenty of time to plant them. I'm sending a helicopter to you."

"Acknowledged," Jack said already following Mac to gather their go bags.

The chopper buzzed across a steel gray overcast sky. Jack looked at the churning clouds with a frown; the city sprawl grew below them. The storm system had finally moved out to see but left a continuous shower and occasional thunderstorm in its wake. He could see sparks of blue over the ocean. Jack swallowed his mind rerunning the image of Mac collapsing dead after channeling an electrical pulse. Jack closed his eyes again feeling the sinking fear he felt when he couldn't find Mac's pulse. Acid burned the back of Jack's throat. He glanced over at Mac who leaned over a tablet and a pad of paper.

"Riley, send me the current wind direction and strengths from LAX." Jack frowned. Riley rattled them off not wasting time asking questions. Mac closed his eyes; his lips moved as he carried out some calculation in his head. Jack barely breathed not wanting to distract his partner. Mac looked down and used his finger to mark a line on the map of Los Angeles. Mac looked like he'd just drank vinegar instead of water. He looked at Jack.

"Santa Monica pier," Mac said. Jack glanced at the pilot who was already rerouting.

"You sure?" Jack asked studying the younger man. The tension corded through Mac's body almost making it vibrate. Mac swallowed, his only outward sign of the pressure he felt.

"As sure as I could be. If I were the Ghost that's where I would put a bomb." Mac turned to look down at the pier below. Thanks to the recent storm the usual crowd of beach bunnies and tourists were absent. The beach, streaked by long rivulets of seaweed, frothed with violent waves. The pilot set down in the parking lot closest to the park. Mac was out and running down the wooden pier past the closed booths, and tourist shops before the rotor cycled down. Jack swore and jumped out running to catch up to his partner.

The surf slammed into the wood and nearby beach relentlessly causing a rhythmic punching sound. The wind whipped their clothes back; rain sandblasted them causing them to blink as they navigated the blurry landscape. Mac bent before the front gate. Jack reached his side and sluiced water off his face as the wall around them protected them for a minute against the storm. Mac's hair hung in limp strands covering his face. He flipped it back and smiled at Jack as the lock clicked open. He opened the gate which was taken from his hand by the wind to slam back against the wall behind it. 

Mac held up a hand and jumped over the handrails which typically helped control the long lines of ticket buyers. He paused breathing hard, his brain whirling. He looked up over the bright orange ribbon of the rollercoaster track over their heads to the Ferris wheel. Jack followed his gaze.

"Oh hell no, you can't think…"

"C'mon," Mac said with a miserable scowl. Surrounded by the booths and rides, the storm seemed calmer. Jack looked up at the Ferris wheel and tried to swallow around a lump.

"Something tells me we're going to be going to the top of that thing," Jack yelled. Mac didn't answer just jumped over another run of handrails. He stopped and covered his gaze with his hand as he studied the ride's covered carts and braces. Jack looked up with a tight grimace. It looked a hell of a lot higher from the bottom of it.

"There!" Mac called pointing. Jack followed his finger to a narrow cross brace over the carriage rails at the ride's peak. Two triangular flags on either end snapped taut in the wind.

"It wouldn't do much damage there," Jack said. Mac glanced at him as he ran to the ride's controls.

"The explosion of a dirty bomb usually doesn't have a lot of concussive force." Mac smiled at Jack's blank look. He hunched over the lock to a small booth. "The explosion doesn't have to blow stuff up; it's there to spread the radiation particles into the atmosphere." Jack's eyes widened. He looked at the flags whose points aimed as steady as compass needles toward the heart of Los Angeles.

"That would poison thousands."

"And panic everyone else." Mac finished pulling the door open with a final twist. The next second melted into slow motion. Jack heard the familiar click of a full auto rifle accompanied by a soft whir behind them. He whirled seeing the barrel of three M60 rifles swivel smoothly toward them. Jack shoved Mac inside the booth diving after him. They hit the floor of the box just as the walls were chopped into splinters by an ear-bursting barrage of gunfire.

"Shit!" Jack growled as he covered his head with his arms. Polyethene glass showered down on them. Mac grimaced and rose to his knees glancing at the controls in front of him. Jack reached up and grabbed him by the collar yanking him down. Mac slammed back first onto the wood as the console erupted with bullet holes, instantly reduced to sparking wires. Mac gasped, his face paling as he arched his back. His hand automatically grabbed Jack's arm at the flare of agony ripping through his body.

"Sorry, bro," Jack said ducking another shower of splinters. Mac closed his eyes and took deep breaths trying to control the pain of his burns from the impact with the ground. He nodded at Jack and smiled weakly.

"'S ok." He began growing around the circles the large caliber bullets punched into the dwindling cover.

"I don't mean to hurry you, Mac…"

"But we're losing out cover." Mac finished frowning as he looked around the booth. He glanced over at Jack.

"How many?"

"Three, but I think they're mechanical." Mac looked at Jack with a frown. That could work to their advantage. Automatic machine gun nests needed sensors; sensors could be tricked.

"Any help, Riley?"

"No, they aren't connected to any WIFI or net I can hack." Her frustration was easy to hear. Mac frowned as he looked up at the control panel. The biggest thing in the center of it was a solid metal bracket that held the shifting gears that controlled the ride. Mac pulled the screwdriver out of his knife and grunting with effort reached up one hand and began to undo the screws holding it. Mac yelped and jumped as a bullet ricocheted off the bracket itself.

"Mac?" Jack yelled. Mac shook his hand and offered a reassuring smile. Jack was not reassured. "When will these things run out of ammo?" Jack turned his head away as a shower of splinters flew toward his face. He spit out bits.

"Long after we run out of shelter. Look for a bolt hole." Jack nodded and slowly slid closer to one of the lower holes. "Not much out there...the closest thing is a booth like this a hundred feet away. Do you think they can swivel that far?" Mac shrugged and slid out the scissors. He leaned under the bottom of the console and cut wires. "Grab the bottom of the cushion." Jack followed his nod and blinked. A thick padded seat jutted from the other side of the booth. Jack hadn't noticed. It made sense; operators were probably trapped out here all shift. Jack yanked his hand back as he reached for the seat. A bullet pinged off the wood it sat on. Jack grabbed the cushion with both hands and tugged with all his strength. The pillow ripped, and Jack flopped backward narrowly missing another row of tracers that stitched across the booth. Jack turned to Mac who was sliding his knife in his could see him gather himself, an expression Jack hated.

"Mac what are you…?" Mac raised to his knees and grabbed the bracket as he pulled it toward him he grunted and fell back blood spraying from his side.


	12. Chapter 12

"Mac!" Jack rolled toward Mac covering his head as he moved to avoid flying wood splinters. Mac let out a surprised yelp and fell back closing his eyes and gasping in pain. Jack was at his side and pulling at his shirt. Mac pushed his hands away.

"It's ok, just a graze, I think," Mac said through gritted teeth. He pulled the console down beside him and worked at the screws to take the four metal levers out of their brackets. Jack sighed looking at the groove crossing Mac's left rib cage.

"You're lucky bud," Jack said breathing out in relief. Mac nodded and wiped sweat from his face. Jack shook his head. "When this is over, I'm going to wrap you in bubble wrap, chain you up and lock you in a padded room." Mac managed a sly smile.

"Make it somewhere warm and dry, and I might let you do it." Mac's face twisted in pain as he pushed himself over and scooted to the side of the door. The rain had softened to a cloying mist. Mac sluiced his hair back and peeped out at the guns pulling back seconds before the corner of the door vanished under a fusillade of 7.62mm bullets. Mac winced as he took a deep breath. Mac took the cushion from Jack and cut it. He stuffed a metal lever in two sides and exposed the foam filling.

"How far to the next shelter?" Mac asked as he pulled out his Zippo.

"There's a fortune teller's booth fifty feet that way." Jack pointed in the direction toward the Ferris wheel."

"Ok, good. I'm going to toss this out; then you run for the booth." Mac coughed as he lit the foam and it began to billow with grey-black smoke.

"What about you?"

"I'm going after those guns."

"Mac-"

"Go!" Mac threw the smoking cushion out. It landed halfway between the guns and their cover. Jack muttered a string of swears and took off running. Mac waited until the 60s swiveled. As he'd hoped, they swung back and forth having trouble discerning Jack's moving form from the thick smoke. Mac gritted his teeth and forced himself to sprint directly at the guns. They had turned and focused on Jack before they started firing Mac dove into their nest. They tried to track Mac but he was out of their sensor's path in seconds.

Before they could turn to aim at Jack, Mac stabbed the two remaining levers into two of the ammo feed boxes. There was a grinding noise, sparks, and a loud pop followed by smoke as they tried to fire and jammed burning out the motors. The third gun managed to shoot a single string of bullets at Jack, but he dove behind the purple booth before the sensors locked onto him. Mac leaned over and grabbed the barrel hissing as his already burnt hands were burnt again. He planted his right foot and twisted bending the gun out of its bracket causing it to jam then burn out.

Mac coughed and shook his hands. He bent over holding his knees, taking deep breaths.

"Are we good?" Jack yelled in the sudden quiet.

"Yeah." Mac managed to yell as he bent and pulled out a handful of bullets and put them in his pocket. He wiped the rain out of his face and hobbled to the Ferris wheel. Mac braced his arm against his side wincing at the warmth he felt spreading there. He hoped this would be the Ghost's last bomb; Mac was about to drop. Jack fell into step with him giving him a worried look that confirmed he was thinking the same thing.

Mac frowned up at the ride. It was circling. He crossed to the control booth and found the controls smashed. Of course, that made it more difficult to get up to the top of the ride-difficult but not impossible. Mac scanned the area moving as his brain worked the problem. He lurched toward the midway. Games lined both sides of the center lane between the rides.

"So what's the plan, bro?" Mac pushed his hair out of his face and gave Jack half a cocky smile.

"You were junior whip cracking champ three years in a row, how did you do at lasso?" Jack looked at Mac puzzled then grinned.

"It was my best event." Mac bent and opened the lock to a taco stand. He opened the door and turned to Jack.

"I need you to find a freezer, leave the food in it and pull it as far as you can toward the Ferris wheel." Jack nodded and turned to enter the booth. "Oh and Jack, don't throw your back out, one of us has to stay on their feet." Jack shot him a worried glare. Mac turned to a more massive booth that offered arcade games. He picked the lock and stepped into the darkened interior. By the dim light of the door, Mac could make out arcade games along one side of the wall and a row of skee balls and basketball hoop games along the other side. He crossed to the skeeball machines and cut down two 12 foot pieces of netting. He had to rest in between and could feel more blood wrung out of his side smear along his side.

"You done?" Mac jumped at Jack's voice at his elbow. Everything spun, and he almost wobbled off his feet. Jack steadied him. "Are you sure you can do this?" Mac wiped his forehead, feeling cold and warm at the same time. At this point, he figured he was standing only by the grace of adrenaline. Mac shrugged at Jack and closed his eyes swallowing. He jumped as his phone beeped. Mac frowned at Jack. With a thudding heart, he pulled it out of his pocket. He closed his eyes; his shoulders dropped. Mac sighed and showed Jack the message. It was a group of four pictures-Disneyland, the Hollywood sign and the Olympic stadium. Under them was a timer counting down 30 minutes.

"Mac, what…" Mac ignored his partner and called Matty with desperation. He explained the situation. He listened and ran a hand through his hair. Jack held his breath and felt his heartthrob fast with anxiety. Mac closed his eyes and nodded hanging up. He looked at Jack as he slid his phone back into his pocket. 

"Matty's sending out bomb squads to the Hollywood sign and Disneyland."

"And the stadium?"

"We're up." Mac looked exhausted and pale. Jack thought he'd aged a hundred years over the past week. Had it only been a week? Mac answered Jack's question before he could ask it. "They have to pull in a lot of help to evacuate and search Disneyland."

"Evacuate? Who the hell would be riding these things in this weather?" Jack blinked against the mist that seemed to cling to his eyelashes. Mac tied the pieces of netting together and looped it over his shoulder. He shot Jack a smile. 

"Well, we are."

"We already know we're crazy." Mac looked up at the umbrella-shaped carriages of the Ferris wheels as they drew close. He glanced over at a loud rumble. Jack half dragged half rolled a meat freezer over. Mac nodded.

"Perfect. Are you ready?" Jack cracked his knuckles, neck and back then nodded. The first step was to jump onto one of the carts as it swung low in the boarding dock. Mac paced them. They weren't moving fast, but to get on from the front, they had to get in before the next cart cut them off-literally. Mac glanced at Jack who nodded tensely.

"Now!" Mac moved with the word. Side by side they dove in between the carriages. Jack made it into the ride. Mac grabbed onto the edge wincing at the burning pain that surged in his fists. He grunted as he pulled himself up. They were halfway up to the top before he and Jack managed to get him in completely. He sank back on the leather cushion breathing hard. Jack held onto the handrail and crouched in front of him worried. Mac wiped his hand through his wet hair and put a hand on the older man's shoulder. Jack helped pull him to his feet. Mac turned his gaze to the roof of the carriage.

"Now for the hard part." Jack looked up.

"We're going to go on the roof aren't we?" Jack asked shooting Mac a worried scowl his gaze taking in Mac's condition. If he had a way of getting Mac to tell him what he had to do to defuse the bomb he'd leave Mac to rest in the cart, but Jack knew that was impossible. A thought occurred to him. "The wet slippery roof." Mac nodded his Adam's apple bobbing. He unslung the netting and spread it out. He turned to the carriage in front of them.

"See the point in the center of the roof; you want to make sure you hook that. Then spread the netting across the entire roof after you climb up." Jack nodded and hefted the netting in his hand. He grinned.

"I got a blue ribbon for hooking calves let's see how I do on a roof!" Mac offered a tired half-smile. Jack climbed until he balanced on the handrail and side of the cart. Mac leaned forward and grabbed the older man's belt steadying him. This high the wind gnawed through their clothes and skin.

"Ok, ready?" Jack asked. Mac braced both feet and held onto Jack's belt on both sides of his waist.

"Go." Jack leaned back. Mac closed his eyes gnashing his teeth as he took Jack's weight in pain-wracked numb hands. He could feel the blood run down his fingers. Jack pulled himself up. Mac leaned forward groaning rubbing his hands on his pants. He could hear movement above him then Jack's head hung upside down over the edge of the top of the ride.

"Ready?" Mac nodded and stood on the cushion. His heart somersaulted as the ride swung backward with the displacement of his weight. Mac swung his arms trying to keep his balance, the dizziness that came with the spinning world that looked ten miles below them didn't help. Jack reached down and grabbed his collar steadying him. "Give me your hand?" Jack grunted. Mac slowly turned then held up both hands. Jack clasped his hands and pulled him up with the power of muscle alone. Mac could hear Jack moan in pain and could only imagine how much his friend's back must hurt. Mac managed to scramble on top of the ride and laid flat as they completed the bottom swing. He pulled himself up to a crouch watching as the bar at the top of the cart slowly came closer.

Jack watched his heart pounding bracing himself to grab Mac if the kid missed the catch. They were a few feet back from the bar. The flags were three feet long and slapped to attention in the salty sea winds. Mac took a deep breath and forced pain and fatigue away. He waited until the last second then leaped stretching out like a leopard in midair. Mac squawked as he almost overshot. He scrabbled for a hold on the cold metal bar. It was round and the size of his thigh and wet. Mac managed to hug the bar then painfully bent and put his legs on the bar. Mac cried out as white flares of agony flashed across his vision. He kept moving knowing he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Finally, Mac managed to balance sitting up on the bar. He scooted closer to the bomb. It was in a large duffle. Mac's heart jumped with every movement, and he stubbornly refused to look down. Mac's focus sharpened as it did whenever he approached a device. He studied the bag-no trip wires. Mac slowly opened the bag and scowled. A thick white cube of plastic explosive was attached to a long plastic box, and several cables were wrapping both and connecting a red LED timer which had five minutes left on it. Mac slowly pulled out his knife and studied the timer. He followed the connectors to the wires and snipped the timer. Mac zipped the bag back up needing as many layers between him and the radioactive material as possible.

Mac turned to see Jack coming up towards him. Mac grabbed the bag and tossed it to Jack. Jack caught it and lowered it into the carriage. Mac took deep breaths feeling himself shaking with cold. He rubbed the wetness out of his face. Mac swung a leg over as Jack drew nearer. When he was directly underneath, Mac slid forward into an inelegant sprawl. Jack caught him keeping him from falling off. Mac closed his eyes fighting nausea at the rippling agony thundering through his body. Jack slid beside him and gently shook him until Mac's blue eyes cleared. Mac shook his head and focused with difficulty.

"Let me help you down," Jack said. Mac nodded and rolled over. His foot slipped. Mac screamed his eyes wide as plates. Jack caught his wrists. Mac managed to snag the edge of the bottom of the cart with his foot and fell forward with the momentum of his swing. He hit the handrail with his chin as he spilled face first into the ride his feet awkwardly sprawled on the leather seats. Mac rolled over and tucked his legs in making room for Jack as the older man landed lightly on edge then hopped onto the leather seats. Jack sat on the leather sliding the bomb to the side as he bent forward and helped Mac rise to the bench. They were passing the top again so took the opportunity to rest and gather themselves for the next jump.

"This is worse than American Ninja Warrior," Jack growled. Mac nodded too tired to answer. As they neared the steel mesh loading dock, both braced a foot on the edge of the ride. When they were five feet above the pier, they jumped. Jack managed to land in a tight roll clearing the carriage track. Mac managed an undignified sprawl then flattened. After the next carriage swung over his head, Jack grabbed him and slid him out of the reach of the ride. Both men leaned against each other panting with pain and fatigue. Mac glanced at his watch. All of that had taken 15 minutes. He shambled to the freezer and opened the lid boxes of hamburger patties, and hot dogs were stacked, filling the fridge about half way. Mac bent and quickly rearranged them. He put the bomb in then cut the straps of the duffle off. Mac pried open the bullets making a small pocket of gunpowder in the top of the bag. He then put several layers of frozen meat on top of the bomb.

"Find me…" Mac trailed off smiling as Jack handed him a rolled up schedule of events in Santa Monica.

"A fuse," Jack answered proudly. Mac lit the paper with his zippo and put it in the gunpowder. He burned it and slammed the door shut. With both of the straps from the duffle Mac tied down the top of the freezer. He grabbed Jack's arm and pulled him away. They had gone 100 feet when there was a loud pop, and the fridge leaped. The straps pulled loose, but the door stayed on. Mac breathed out in relief. He nodded at Jack and called Matty to get a hazmat team to clean up the radioactive freezer. He climbed into the helicopter and slumped back barely awake as the engine blared into life and they took off to the next and hopefully last bomb. Mac glanced at his watch and rubbed his eyes forcing himself to keep functioning. He saw Jack watching him and nodded, they both knew it would be a miracle if they found it and disposed of it within the next 10 minutes.


	13. Chapter 13

"Crap!" Jack snarled as the helicopter approached the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. The stadium was half full and hundreds possibly thousands of people buzzed in line waiting to enter. Jack's heart pounded. He realized they couldn't have evacuated because the majority of police were searching Disneyland. No one had thought that tonight was Jack turned to Mac and his mouth fell open as his stomach plummeted a hundred feet straight down.

Mac hung limp held up only by his shoulder belt.

"MAC!" Jack yelled his voice loud with desperation. He undid his belt and reached into the back seat shaking his partner hard enough to cause the helicopter to sway. Mac's head bobbed side to side, but he was out for the count. Jack turned around and shared a wide-eyed look with the pilot. He glanced at his watch. Five minutes, shit. Jack bit his lip studying the layout of the stadium. His eyes froze on the Jumbotron. It was flashing "Congratulations! Los Angeles Olympic Games 2028!" His eyes shifted to the Olympic Cauldron. He knew they lit it on special occasions, would tonight be one?

"Which way is the wind blowing?" The pilot pointed directly toward downtown LA. Was the bomb in the cauldron? He didn't have time to be wrong. There were higher points on the stadium grounds, but Mac had told him the Ghost loves to be dramatic. Jack's gut pulled him toward the cauldron. He glanced desperately back at Mac who remained limp and unmoving. Jack gritted his teeth. If he was wrong everyone in the studio below was going to die as well as about half of LA. No pressure. Jack pointed at the cauldron. 

"Get as close as you can to that?"

"Are you sure?" The pilot asked his face pale eyes full and nervous. Jack didn't answer. He looked down at the bowl of the cauldron and scowled. Inside was a sizeable star-shaped group of vents. Once lit the flames from the vents would fill the entire cup. In the center of the star sat a duffle identical to the one he and Mac had taken from Santa Monica.

"Gotta get closer, dude," Jack said grimacing as he took off the headset and opened the side door. The pilot nodded and looked out the front window gently edging the helicopter over to the bowl of metal below them. Jack stepped out onto the skid calling out swears as the agony flared in his lower back. The wind and hard splash of water took his breath away. He blinked and shook the water out of his eyes. He waved down. The pilot looked like he was going to be sick but nodded and lowered the chopper. Jack waited until they hovered just above the duffle. He bent and leaned over. His foot slipped. He cried out and leaned back grabbing the strut with both hands sucking in terrified breaths. The helicopter swayed as the pilot tried to keep it facing into the wind. Jack leaned down again with a shaking hand.

Jack stretched his hand out as far as his arm could go. He was still a foot short. He frowned trying to think of something to do when a gust of wind skidded the helicopter over the bag. Jack snatched it then clung to the skid, his heart flip-flopping. He tossed the bag in then pulled himself into the cockpit with a groan. He slid on the headphones. 

"Ocean, go, go go!" The pilot pivoted the chopper and wrung as much speed out of the machine as possible. Jack opened the bag. The timer had 3 minutes left. He gritted his teeth watching as they blew past the beach. He waited until it timed down to 1 minute then opened the door and tossed the bag down into the ocean.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" The pilot asked as he whirled the bird around trying to put distance between them and the explosion. Before Jack could answer, the sea exploded behind them. The helicopter spun crazily caught in the force of the blast. Jack closed his eyes feeling his stomach drop then slosh around like a water balloon in a blender. The pilot fought the stick, and Jack could make out the strained whine of the engine. Eventually, the pilot managed to steady the flight. Jack leaned back swallowing acid bubbling at the back of his throat. His back spasmed the muscles screaming in agony. "Jack?"

Jack looked over at the pilot aware that he was waiting for an answer to his question or reassurance they just hadn't done the Ghost's job for him.

"I don't know, Pete. Hopefully, we only nuked some fish. I couldn't come up with anything better." Pete shook his head and turned the aircraft toward Phoenix. Jack speed-dialed Matty.

"Jack...hold on." Jack closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. His head pounded with the same heartthrob as the helicopter's thumping blades. When Matty came back, her voice held a note of caution. "Jack, the bombs?" 

"Neutralized, I think."

"You think?" Jack quickly explained what he'd had to do. He could almost hear Matty nod in thought.

"Ok, we're calling the coast guard hazmat, they'll take care of anything that needs to be cleaned up. How's Mac?" Jack could hear his worry reflected in the tone of her voice. He glanced over his shoulder at the kid's pale, almost white face hanging down limply.

"Not good, Matty. I think he's done." Jack swallowed feeling his own Adam's apple jump with dry anxiety. Matty sighed.

"Ok, I'll let Medical know." Jack realized there was a crucial thing he was forgetting.

"Matty! The other bombs?"

"They're neutralized." Jack leaned back taking in a deep breath.

"Thank god." He murmured. He itched his scalp.

"And the Ghost?" Jack's voice was quiet.

"There's been no sign of him at the ports, train station, bus station or airport."  
"I hope like hell he's gone," Jack growled cracking his knuckles.

"Me too, Jack. C'mon home."

Most of the medical team met the helicopter as it swooped down to land on the rooftop helipad. Sally and Laura ducked into Mac's door their hair flying wildly under the slowing rotor. They undid Mac's belt and caught him as he slumped forward. Jack jumped out his door and came around to help them drag his unconscious partner onto the gurney Doc Carl held in place. The two nurses worked like two sides of the same animal. Jack winced and hunched forward trying to control the agony rippling across his back and pelvis. He staggered after the nurses and doctor as they laid Mac flat and covered him with a blanket as they moved.

By the time Jack managed to lean on the door frame of Mac's triage room; the nurses had cut his shirt off and rolled him onto his side, his back facing Jack. Sally gently pulled off the wet dressings off the kid's back. Jack grimaced at the irritated red, raw weeping wounds. Sally sighed and moved Mac's arm taking in the bullet graze. Jack frowned. It was worse than it had been. How much blood had the younger man lost? Doc Carl leaned forward listening to Mac's heart and then came around the bed to assess Mac's wounds. Laura had an IV in, and fluids were hanging. She was sticking monitoring patches on and left as Doc Carl ordered her to get surgery on to consult. Jack closed his eyes almost swaying with exhaustion.

"C'mon, Jack," Laura said in her stern frog voice. She slid Jack's arm over her shoulders. "You need to take a shower to limit the exposure to radiation you might have gotten on you." Jack nodded and stumbled to the shower. Laura made sure he was set up and rolled in a shower chair. For once Jack didn't complain as he slowly sat on it and turned water to blistering hot. Jack lost track of time. He turned off the shower and peeped out. There was a wheelchair stacked with sweats, and a t-shirt pulled from his locker and towels. Jack dried off and managed to get dressed. It hurt to move anything. He leaned on the back of the wheelchair setting himself to walk down the hall and see how his partner was doing.

"Sit down in the chair before you splat your brain on the floor." Jack glared at Laura who calmly held a small cup of pills and water.

"I'm fine…" Laura rolled her eyes and held out the pills. Jack went to protest. Laura gave him a smile that would scare Freddie Kreuger.

"Go ahead and refuse." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the meanest, fattest syringe full of medicine Jack had ever seen. Jack gulped. He accepted the pills and washed them down. Laura sighed obviously disappointed. Jack went to walk around her. She raised an eyebrow daring him to challenge her.

"I have to see how Mac's doing." He said. Laura nodded and held out a hand almost shoving him into the wheelchair.

"He's fine." She said. Jack wasn't convinced by her breezy tone. Laura helped him bend down into the chair. "Sally's here remember?" Jack chuckled and nodded. He yawned. After the heat of the shower and the stress of the day, his eyes were almost closing on their own accord. He was dimly aware of moving, Laura keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder. Jack could hear he talking from far away. He jolted awake as they stopped beside a freshly made, bed already pulled back. Another set of hands reached around to help him stand. He blinked groggily at Doc Carl. The Doc talked to Laura over Jack's stooped form. Their words were loud static echoing across Jack's skull.

"Mac?" Jack managed to mumble. Doc Carl looked at him thoughtfully.

"He's in surgery."

"He gonna be 'k?" Jack's words were thick as he wobbled and sat on the side of the bed. He cried out in pain as the doctor and nurse moved him to the center of the bed. Jack closed his eyes. His back felt like two fists were crushing his spine on either side.

"I hope so." Doc Carl whispered. Or at least Jack thought he'd whispered. Everything was fuzzy. He moaned as he was rolled, prodded then poked. Jack dimly felt a tight hug around his waist. He ran his fingers along his abdomen not surprised to find a support brace circling him. He closed his eyes pulling the sheet and blankets up drifting into a deep dark sleep.

Jack knew a long time passed before he awoke. He rubbed his eyes and yawned blinking the bleary room into focus. The sky outside was black, and there was a nighttime feel to the medical wing. More importantly, Jack realized, Mac lay motionless in the bed beside him. Jack didn't like the color of his friend. Mac looked white as paper with streaks of red along his cheeks and forehead. His hair slicked back and wet. He was propped up on his side facing Jack. Mac had a cannula in his nose, and the monitor over his bed showed a slow rhythm that occasionally skipped a few beats. Jack felt his heart jump in sympathy. He hoped it wasn't a sign of a permanent problem from the electrocution Mac had suffered. Ice was packed around Mac's neck and body, telling Jack he had a fever. No surprise there. Jack frowned taking in the spare tire of bandages wrapping Mac's middle. The side facing up, the bullet had grazed Mac, showed a fair amount of blood leaking through the gauze. Jack looked up at the IV and shook his head. He wasn't surprised to see a bag of blood slowly dripping into the kid's arm.

Jack relaxed back and shifted uncomfortably. His back felt better, probably from the pain pills, but it throbbed worse than a bad tooth. Jack glanced up at the sound of feet. He grinned as Matty, Riley, and Bozer entered the room.

"Jack, you are a sight for sore eyes." Bozer said bending to gently half hug Jack.

"You too, man." Jack cleared his throat as it suddenly clogged with emotion. Riley grinned and hugged him. Matty stepped forward and smiled at Jack.

"What? No hug?" Jack asked with raised eyebrows. Matty gave him a fake glare.

"Don't get needy, Dalton." She snapped. Jack chuckled and yawned. He saw the others watch the monitors over Mac a long minute. Bozer went over and brushed his hand over Mac's forehead. His eyes widened.

"Damn, he has a fever." The others exchanged a worried look. Matty sighed.

"I'm not surprised. Surgical said they had to cut out infected tissue around his back burns." Jack's eyes opened wide, and he grabbed onto the bedrail to pull himself to sit. Riley pushed him back with a stern glare.

"Jack, stay!" Jack glared and opened his mouth to snarl at the woman. Her face softened. "There's nothing you can do, alright?" Jack closed his mouth and rubbed his forehead sighing.

"I know, it's just…" Jack waved his hand as if he was indicating the whole world. Riley offered a small smile and reached over taking his hand. She sat on the bed beside him.

"We get it." The others nodded. Jack turned his eyes away as they pricked with tears. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat again.

"So what about the Ghost?" He asked.

"Still no sign, it's like he vanished," Matty said, her mouth curving as if with a sour taste.

"No more nukes?"

"None of the sensors are pinging, and the system is completely back online," Riley answered.

"With some upgrades, our own Riley Davis made," Bozer said grinning proudly. Riley rolled her eyes. Jack yawned his eyes heavy. He heard the others talk, but their words were hard for his worn out brain to process. He blinked as Riley bent over and kissed him on the cheek.

"We'll be back later." Jack hummed. Bozer and Matty said goodbye and left. Jack glanced at Mac once more before he whirled asleep snoring. 


	14. Chapter 14

Mac bolted awake his chest working like billows his heart pounding. He sat up and raked the room. Mac was alone, but something had triggered his danger instinct. He blinked his hand curling around his middle. He barely took in the fact he was in Phoenix Medical. His eyes fell on the table beside his bed and widened. Mac gritted his teeth studying burner phone with a large red store-bought bow. Mac pulled off the wires and IV tubes. He pushed to his feet and lurched toward the hall. Mac was dimly aware of alarms blaring behind him. He made it to the center of the corridor and spun looking in both directions. Nothing.

Mac staggered, everything spun around him. He saw three people running down the hall toward him. He took a step toward his room and cried out curling up in pain as he slammed into the tile. Mac closed his eyes and tried to draw in a breath, but he felt impaled through his chest. He heard pounded. Mac looked up surprised to see Jack, Sally, and Doc Carl leaned over him. Mac closed his eyes but couldn't suck in air. They were talking to him, but Mac could only hear the pounding of his own heart desperately trying to get air. Mac gasped as Jack bent and sat him up, Mac offered a weak smile as some of the agonies on his chest eased.

"Thanks" Mac murmured finally able to suck in a breath. He leaned forward grimacing as his back and side erupted into agony. "Ugh"

"You could have told us you were awake before setting off every alarm on the floor," Sally said as she bent and helped Mac to his feet. Jack grunted and lifted Mac's other side. Mac's knees wobbled, and everything seemed to go fuzzy. He sighed in relief as he sank into the soft mattress of his bed. He frowned and reached out for the phone. He looked up at Jack wincing as Doc Carl poked and prodded the dressing around his torso. Sally silenced the heart monitor and wrapped the IV site which had streams of blood running from it.

"He was here," Mac said tiredly. Jack blinked, taking a minute to process what Mac was saying. Jack straightened instantly transforming from friend to Delta. He glanced at Sally and Doc Carl.

"We have to move him now," Jack growled. Mac opened his mouth to protest. Jack pulled out his phone hit a button and strode out of the room. Mac closed his mouth and sighed. He stared at the phone and pulled off the bow.

"C'mon Mac." Doc Carl said. Mac blinked at him and fought a yawn. Sally edged up to him holding a T-shirt. Mac looked down surprised to find himself in a pair of sweats. He accepted help groaning as Sally raised his arm. Mac closed his eyes forcing himself to breathe. Between the two medical staff, Mac managed to stumble to a waiting wheelchair. Sally put the portable monitor in his lap.

"Before you say anything, yes you need it. Your heart is still irregular from your electrocution." Mac glared at her, she smiled sweetly and patted his shoulder. He turned his glare to Doc Carl who pushed the chair a smirk on his face.

"Fine, but there will be no IV." His voice left no room for argument. He ran his fingers over the phone. He was not surprised to feel it shake in his trembling grip. He looked up at Jack, and a three-man security detail walked up and flanked them. Jack put a hand on Mac's shoulder.

"How ya doin', bud?" Mac studied Jack hearing a reserved tone in his voice. Jack let out a long breath. "We couldn't find him. Riley's doing a full system check." There was a rumble over one of the TAC radios. Mac looked up. The soldier glanced at Jack.

"All units report Phoenix secure. No alarms tripped." Mac leaned an elbow on the wheelchair arm and rubbed his forehead. He wasn't surprised. There was a reason the mad bomber was called the Ghost. He studied the phone carefully making sure it hadn't been tampered with. Mac jumped sucking in air surprised to find Jack kneeling in front of him worried. Mac blinked and shivered. His mouth fell open. They were in the parking lot in front of Jack's Shelby. Mac looked around to find the monitor, Sally and Doc Carl gone.

"You awake Mac?" Mac rubbed his forehead and winced. Everything was still fuzzy.

"Wha…?" His voice was thick and slurred. He licked his dry lips and rubbed his eyes. "What's going on? The Ghost…"

"Is why we are getting out of here. C'mon bro." Jack bent and helped Mac wobble to his feet. Everything whited out. Mac coughed and felt like someone was reaching in through his back and clutched his heart tight in a fist. Mac gasped and startled awake. He leaned forward groaning holding his middle as ripples of pain throbbed through his whole body. He gagged. There was movement at his side then a hand across his shoulders. Mac's eyes closed and he puked crying out as the action seemed to tear him in half. Tears ran from his eyes, and he couldn't breathe! Mac gagged again, and dry heaved still trying to suck in air.

"Easy brother, easy...you're ok." Mac's eyes opened and followed the voice to Jack's worried expression. Mac reached out and latched onto Jack's arm as he bent and dry heaved again. Mac coughed and spat up mucus. Finally, he was empty. He closed his eyes. He was sweaty and cold. His body began to tremble from head to foot. Jack moved away; Mac automatically clutched tighter as everything was a confused mess around him. He felt a damp warm cloth swab his face and heard the dizzying hiss of soft conversation around him. Mac tensed his heart jumping into overdrive. He could feel his nails dig into Jack's flesh but couldn't release his arm. He blinked trying to find Jack's face in the foggy blur around him.

"Wh-what's going on?" Mac couldn't keep the note of panic out of his voice. He shook, his teeth rattled against each other.

"Shhhh, you're ok, brother." Jack pulled Mac forward. Mac's forehead hit Jack's collarbone. "Doc Carl gave you pain medicine before we left Phoenix. He said it was pretty potent." Mac sucked in a shaky breath and relaxed his weight against Jack's chest. Jack was solid and warm. Jack held him a long minute then pulled away sliding a warm comforter around Mac. Mac opened his eyes. Everything tilted as he flopped backward. Jack caught him before he landed on his sore back. Mac groaned and swallowed back nausea as Jack helped turn him on his side. Mac closed his eyes.

"Where are we?" Mac asked his voice hoarse. He could feel Jack run his hand up and down Mac's upper arm. Mac felt himself relax, calmed by the rhythm.

"You're at home, bud." Mac opened his eyes and blinked. Everything was slowly drifting into focus. He was in his bed at his home. Mac sighed with relief. He licked his dry lips and managed to blink Jack's face into a blurry semblance of itself.

"The phone?" Jack closed his eyes and looked down. Mac could feel rage pulse from his partner like static. "Jack, what is it?" Jack cleared his throat.

"You need to get some rest," Jack said his voice gruff. Jack moved to stand up; Mac caught his wrist.

"Jack, just tell me." Mac's voice was flat, resigned. "The other bombs? Did they….?" Mac tensed burping acid. Jack sat back down and started to rub Mac's arm again.

"No! No, we stopped all the dirty bombs, and there hasn't been any sign of any more."

"Jack?" Mac blinked and could make out Jack's face clearer. He could see the worry in his partner's dark eyes. Mac's heart strummed with fear. "Has he hurt…?"

"What? No, no…" Jack let out a sigh of resignation. "The phone was new the only thing on it was a text and video." Mac jerked as if punched in the face. His breath caught in his throat.

"Video of what?" Mac whispered.

"Mac, you…"

"Video of what?" Mac said louder meeting Jack's gaze with one of his own. Jack ran a hand through his sparse hair.

"We aren't completely sure, but I think it was the time…" Jack cleared his throat. "Mac, I think it's a video of your squad in Afghanistan and a bunch of villagers…" Mac shoved Jack aside and bolted to sitting. His stomach was churning like a thunderstorm.

"I want to see it." He said his voice was creeping up in volume. He threw his blankets across the bed, pivoted to the side of the bed and tried to stand. Jack caught him by the shoulders and pushed him back to the edge of the bed. It was probably a good thing because Mac's body wasn't working quite right. Mac death-glared at Jack. "I want to see it, now." Jack shook his head, but he knew that tone.

"Alright. Stay put." Mac nodded and winced almost feeling his brain slosh up and down inside his skull. He lifted his shirt and examined the bandage around his middle. He ran a hand along his side and winced feeling a dampness. Mac tried to see it, but started seeing black spots when he bent. Mac straightened and cried out at the blaze across his middle. The burns hurt less but seemed to cover his entire lower back. Mac cleared his throat and felt a familiar pain in his throat, the pain from intubation during surgery.

He pulled the thick blanket around him and leaned forward bracing his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his forehead. The gauzy feeling was letting up. He remembered waking up, being in a wheelchair, going to Jack's car then nothing until here. Mac glanced out the window and frowned. He couldn't tell what time it was because the sky was the same monochromatic gray it had been for the past week or two. Mac rubbed his eyes. He just wanted to drop. He looked up as Jack entered the room holding the phone in his fist. Mac managed a reassuring smile.

Jack sat down and studied his partner.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Mac blinked and was about to lie, but realized he just didn't have the energy and Jack didn't deserve it. Mac looked down and rubbed his eyes again. 

"No." He admitted. Jack's eyebrows rose a notch and his worry increased. Mac chuckled a one-note cold snort. Jack was worried when Mac shut him out, but even more worried when he let him in. Mac wondered how he was supposed to win in either situation. "But I have…" Mac looked away. A million pound weight settled on his shoulders nailing his heart under an avalanche of grief and guilt. Mac braced himself and held out his hand. Jack handed over the phone. Mac was about to ask the older man to let him watch it alone, but the look in Jack's eyes told Mac he wasn't going anywhere. Mac wasn't sure if he was more irritated or grateful. Mac nodded and leaned down turning on the phone.

The text was simple enough. "ME:1 YOU:1, until the next time." Mac huffed. He thought of the brave soldier on the rooftop. Mac absently wiped at his arm for a minute feeling the man's sticky warm blood splatter on his skin. Mac realized he still didn't know the man's name. He tried to swallow, but he felt as if his saliva had evaporated in a desert. He didn't consider that a win, apparently the Ghost did. Mac's hand shook as he played the video. It was a view inside the hut. Mac closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he forced himself to watch.

 _"It's ok, relax. Our EOD's got this; he's the best," said a tall, gangly dark haired man-Sol, short for Solomon. The group of women held their children pulling them close. The women were strong, being brave for their kids. They latched onto the tan camo-clad soldier's reassurance desperately. His team was wounded, shot and beaten. Mac had escaped the ambush by dumb luck. He'd tripped over a stone and fell head over ass down a steep hill just as it was sprung.  
_

" _He might not get here in time." Jock leaned over to whisper again pulling at his restraints. Sol glared at him. Collin, the youngest member of the team, by two months, gulped wide-eyed._

 _"This is Mac we're talking about, of course, he's going to make it in time just like he always does and he'll save the day with some brilliant aw-shucks off the wall craziness," Sol said with a smile that most would think was genuine. Mac absently wiped away tears. He knew Sol was trying to keep everyone calm while he was trying to find a way out. Loud cries rang out, and the other captives pushed to the barred windows pushing their arms through and calling out in Arabic and Pashto. The Americans stood and tried to push through. Collin managed and turned back grinning.  
_

 _"It's Mac! You guys were right! He's out there working with a mine I think." The soldiers straightened as if they'd shrugged out of flack jackets at the end of an extended mission. Mac blinked angrily swatting tears and made himself watch to the end. There was a distant thump. The villagers began to scream. Mac's squad looked up worried.  
_

 _"Mac? Mac!" They shouted. Mac had always thought it had been out of fear because the bombs detonated and they knew what was coming but it wasn't. They had been worried about him. Mac's heart flip-flopped. Mac heard a series of detonations. The hut became a blur of panic and movement then the camera died. Mac closed his eyes hearing the screams, smelling the chemical tang of explosive mingle with the smell of burnt bamboo and cooked flesh.  
_

Mac felt the phone fall from his hands. In slow motion, it seemed to hit the carpet and bounce unharmed under the bed. Mac wanted to stomp on it.

"Mac?" Mac looked up to see Jack's moist eyes match his gentle voice. Mac tried to swallow but couldn't. "Brother?" Jack went to put a hand on Mac's shoulder. Mac pulled away. Jack looked surprised and hurt. Mac sighed. He felt numb, empty.

"I need to be alone." His voice sounded like a hollow echo coming from far away. He leaned back and laid down curling into a fetal ball on his side, his back facing his partner.

"Mac, look…"

"Jack."

"Mac, come on let me help…"

"Please." Mac's voice was barely a whisper. He heard Jack huff and felt the older man cover him with the comforter. Mac closed his eyes feeling his body sink deep into the mattress. Jack pulled back his bangs.

"I'll be right outside." Jack patted his shoulder and turned to leave. Part of Mac wanted to scream, beg his brother to stay and comfort him...but he was too tired, too empty. He closed his eyes as Jack turned off the light.

"Thanks." Mac murmured. The door closed. Mac didn't know if Jack heard him or not.


	15. Chapter 15

Jack opened his eyes and listened. Mac's house was quiet, maybe too quiet? Jack sat up and yawned. He glanced at his watch and raised his eyebrows. Jack had slept six hours! He stood up and stretched wincing at the pain in his lower back. Wearing the girdle, as Riley demanded to call it, had helped make movement easier but Jack knew sprains take a long time to heal-like broken hearts. Jack frowned and silently crept toward Mac's room.

Riley and Bozer had stayed to talk with Jack about how to stop the Ghost until midnight. Bozer had taken Riley home and was going to crash on her couch, too tired to drive back. Jack appreciated the lie but knew his younger teammates were giving him time to help bring Mac out of the hurt more profound than any of the terrible wounds his body had suffered. Jack hadn't wanted to leave Mac alone last night, but he'd hoped it had been exhaustion and not a return to the cave Jack had worked so long to pull the kid free.

Jack opened the door. Mac had not moved a muscle all night. He hadn't had any nightmares; usually, Jack would celebrate, but with the hollow emptiness Mac had shown him, it set his teeth on edge with worry. Jack sighed and turned back to the living room.

"I'm awake." Jack would have missed the soft voice if the house hadn't been so silent. Jack smiled. Maybe this was a door cracking open? Jack left the door open and crossed to the chair beside the bed. In the dim light, he could see the white of Mac's eyes follow him. Even in the gloom, Jack could see how flat and lifeless they were.

"Did you get any sleep?" Jack asked. Mac shook his head. Jack frowned. "You've been climbing into that ginormous brain, haven't you? Trying to figure out what you could have done differently? How you could have saved them all?" Mac let out a long, tired sigh that neither confirm or denied it. Jack scowled not liking this at all. Mac looked so defeated, pummeled down farther than he ever had been. Jack leaned forward and pushed his partner's bangs away from his face. His eyes widened. Mac was hot and sweaty. He laid the back of his hand against Mac's forehead.

"You're burning up!" Jack said worriedly.

"Probably. I don't feel well." Jack stood up and whirled, turning on the overhead light. He turned back to Mac and froze. Mac was as white as his sheets. More worrying was the blood that had soaked his clothes and bedding.

"Shit! How long have you been bleeding like this?" Mac blinked up at Jack confused.

"Bleeding?" Mac turned his head and frowned at the red puddle around him. "Hmmm. Hadn't noticed." Mac closed his eyes. Jack leaned forward shaking his shoulder. Mac looked up at him.

"If you don't stay awake, I'll put in another IV, and neither of us wants that, do

we?" Mac shot the older man a weak glare. Jack smiled slightly encouraged. He pulled out his phone and hit speed dial to Doc Carl. The groggy doctor listened to Jack's concise summary and said he was on his way. Jack hung up and hit another button.

"Alpha two."

"It's me. Doc Carl will be coming up in a little while."

"Roger, we'll let him through."

"Thanks, Alpha one out." Jack hung up and felt Mac stare at him with more annoyance than anger.

"TAC outside?" He asked.

"Did you think there wouldn't be?" Mac's shoulders seemed to slump more, and he looked away. "Here move your arm," Jack said leaning over the blond. Mac did. Even that small move seemed to tire him. Jack pulled up his shirt expecting the blood to be draining from the graze on Mac's side. Jack's breath caught in his throat. It wasn't; it was coming from his back. Mac looked up at Jack's alarm.

"The back?" The fear in Jack's eyes answered his question. Mac looked away closing his eyes. His face scrunched up with a new pain.

"Mac?"

"Pan!" Jack darted over to get the garbage pan but was too late. Mac vomited across the bed and the front of him. Tears oozed from his eyes as he jackknifed and puked again. Jack frowned. Mac hadn't eaten much, but he was wretching up a lot of mucus. Jack rubbed Mac's shoulder as the kid dry heaved. Mac cried out and leaned back moaning in pain. Mac began to tremble. He reached out a hand.

"Jack…" Mac's voice cracked with misery.

"It's ok, kiddo. I got ya, ok? Just relax, do you feel up to a shower?" Mac shook his head fighting to hold back tears. "Ok, I'll be right back." Mac nodded. When Jack returned a few minutes later with a bowl of soapy water, towels, and bedding, Mac's eyes were reddened, and his face was wet with tears. Jack could almost feel his partner's pain fill the room.

"Ok, brother here we go, easy, gently." Jack reached down and helped Mac sit up. He winced at the wet mess clinging to Mac. Mac leaned forward his eyes fluttering as if he were going to pass out. "C'mon buddy," Jack said carefully sliding Mac to the side of the bed that was dry and clean. He supported Mac with one hand on his shoulder while he dipped a washcloth into the water. Jack carefully washed Mac's face. Mac opened his eyes again and gave Jack a small, grateful smile.

"Now for the fun part," Jack said. Mac blinked at him blankly. Jack grimaced in sympathy as he reached down and peeled the soiled T-shirt off. Mac hissed in pain and began to shake more. He leaned forward his eyes closed. "Are you going to be sick again?" Jack asked pausing. Mac shook his head. Jack unwrapped Mac's middle. Jack looked over Mac's shoulder and frowned. Two long rows of sutures spread across his lower back. They bulged out. Jack gently touched one and wasn't surprised to see streams of blood seep out. Mac's skin felt warm but there wasn't any redness or puss around the wound. Mac swayed. Jack leaned back and got another washcloth. He washed Mac's chest, sides and back careful to stay clear of his open areas. Mac was outright shaking, his teeth chattering. Jack tossed the spoiled washcloths into the dirty water and grabbed a large fluffy towel wrapping Mac in it. Mac made a gagging sound. Jack put the garbage pan under his mouth just as he bent forward and heaved up more mucus.

As Jack was cleaning his face again, two sets of footsteps ran down the hall. Jack glanced up to see Doc Carl and Sally burst into the room. Both had their arms full of medical gear. They pulled up short taking in the scene. Mac slumped forward his eyes shut. Jack pulled the chair closer until they were knee to knee and pulled Mac's head onto his shoulder. The next hour was a blur of IV's, tubes and stitches. Jack barely noticed what the two medical staff were doing. He heard something about putting a drain in and reopening some of the stitches. The rest was the strange language of nurses and doctors.

Mac cried out in pain clinging to Jack's shirt as he buried his face into Jack's shoulder. Jack could feel his body spasm. Jack wasn't sure if it was sob's, dry heaves, or shivers from the fever. Jack held him close and muttered the soft tones reserved for these situations. Finally, they finished. Mac was barely conscious. Sally helped Doc Carl rebandage Mac's middle and got the couch set up for Mac to rest. All three finished cleaning Mac up and got him into warm flannel pajamas. Jack and Doc Carl hauled Mac to the living room and laid him in the nest of blankets and pillows while Sally efficiently attacked the messy bed. Jack blinked in surprise as Doc Carl hooked Mac's IVs on a pole.

"When did you bring that?" Jack asked dumbly. Doc Carl chuckled.

"Never leave home without it." His face grew serious. "I brought some basic fluids and antibiotics, but Mac probably needs more blood. I'll have Sally or Laura stop by later." Jack nodded as he tucked the blankets around Mac. The kid was pale enough that the veins under his skin stood out like spiderwebs. He looked up at the doctor.

"Is he going to be alright?" Doc Carl sighed and ran a hand through his halo of curly hair.

"If it were anyone else, I would say probably not, but this is Mac. What he's been through…" Doc Carl shook his head, his soft brown eyes were worried. "If we were at a hospital he'd probably be in ICU." Jack's eyes widened. The young doctor patted the older man on the shoulder reassuringly. "Between you and Sally I think he'll get better care than any ICU patient." Jack managed a wry smile. Before they left, the medics hooked Mac up to a portable heart monitor and an oxygen tank.

"It's just to keep him comfortable." Doc Carl explained.

"And to keep you from having a heart attack." Sally chuckled. She grinned when Jack glared at her. "I gave him an antiemetic…" Jack looked at her blankly. She rolled her eyes. "Medicine to keep him from puking. I'll leave a couple of doses here they'll be in the fridge already drawn up." Jack looked like he might be sick. "Don't worry they go in the IV tubing like I showed you remember?" Jack nodded that felt like so long ago. "Don't worry Jack, no stabbing...unless you want to." Jack smiled at the wicked smile the red hed shot him. He shook his head.

"You are evil." Sally didn't deny it.

After they left, Jack found himself sitting on the coffee table watching his partner sleep. Mac looked like he'd melted into a puddle. Jack smiled and brushed back the kid's hair.

"It's going to be ok, brother. I promise." Jack whispered. In the silent house, his voice seemed to echo loudly off the walls. Jack yawned and tucked Mac's covers around him for the third time then sprawled on the other couch. Jack was asleep in seconds.

After what felt like a minute, Jack bounced to sitting awake and alert eyes on Mac.

"Jack...don't go…" Mac murmured in his sleep. Jack crossed to sit across from Mac and took the younger man's hand. The kid's pulse was fast, but no alarms were blaring. Jack took that as a win. "Jack, I'm sorry...please…" Mac's voice sounded young. Jack scowled. He knew it was the ten-year-old deep inside begging not to be abandoned again. Jack felt tears prick his eyes as he reached down and wiped Mac's wet cheeks.

"I ain't going anywhere, kiddo," Jack said softly. He rubbed Mac's upper arm slowly feeling the younger man relax, his breathing matching the soothing rhythm. Mac's blue eyes opened and blinked Jack's face into view.

"Hey," Jack said smiling down. Mac reached up to feel the nasal cannula then lifted his arm to see the IV and took in the fluids. He gazed around the room before studying Jack thoughtfully. "Mac?" Mac's arm dropped.

"Hey." Mac said softly, "I take it Doc Carl was here?"

"Oh, you got a two-fer, Sally was here too." Mac glared at Jack.

"At least I was out for that," Mac whispered. He blinked slowly, his eyes heavy.

"How do you feel? If you say fine, I swear I will personally bring Sally back to stay with you for a month. Mac looked like he was going to vomit again. His eyes drifted away from Jack's.

"Honestly?" Mac said softly. His eyes came up to meet Jack's. "I don't know." Mac's eyes flooded and he began to cry. Jack felt his heart melt feeling his brother's pain scream at him. Jack pushed the table aside and knelt in front of Mac awkwardly gathering the kid in a comforting embrace. Mac weakly pulled Jack closer and gave in to the pain he'd been bottling up for a long, long time.


	16. Chapter 16

Jack helped Mac lean back on the couch and covered him with the blanket. Mac barely noticed. He felt as if a boil in his heart had burst open; there was relief from the pressure, but he was stripped open, exposed and raw. Mac wiped his face with the edge of his T-shirt. Jack walked down the hall and returned a minute later with a pillow and blanket. He pulled the coffee table away from the couch then stretched out on the floor beside the sofa. Mac closed his eyes and sniffed.

"Why don't you use Bozer's room or the couch?" He asked Jack softly. His voice trilled like a taut piano string. Jack rested his head on his arms.

"This helps the pain," Jack said looking at Mac. The sky was dark. Mac wasn't sure if it was from a thickening layer of storm clouds or falling night. Mac didn't have any idea what time or what day it was and couldn't bring himself to care. The monitor's screen automatically dimmed but the regular spikey line gave the couch a surreal alien light. Occasionally the rhythm would break the pattern. Mac could feel it in his chest a slight flutter like a butterfly landing. Although he couldn't see his partner's face, Mac squirmed as Jack's soul deep eyes studied him. Mac cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes. They felt welded shut from tears or exhaustion.

"Your back?" Jack sighed and didn't answer. Mac swallowed. He wiped his damp cheek. Mac didn't know if it was sweat or more tears. He decided he didn't care if it was either. "Thanks," Mac said his voice strangled. He felt Jack reach up and squeeze his hand. They were quiet a long time. Mac's body desperately craved unconsciousness, but he couldn't coax his brain out of the burning fog he'd slipped into again. He waited for Jack to start snoring, but the older man didn't. Mac licked his lips. He wanted to say something, but couldn't calm his swirling thoughts into words.

"Jack…" He whispered.

"Yeah?" There was only patience in Jack's tone. Mac had no idea what to say next. After a long minute, Jack helped. "Can't sleep?" Mac shook his head not considering Jack couldn't see the motion. "Do you want to talk?"

"I…" Mac felt tears dribble down his face. At least these didn't come with the excruciating agony of sobbing, "I...I don't know how to…to..." Mac's voice trailed off into a frustrated sigh. Jack sat up and turned, so his back was leaning against the coffee table. He winced and leaned forward slipping the pillow behind him. Mac turned his head away again feeling the sharp stab of guilt for the pain he caused the older man inside and outside. Mac swallowed more sobs and railed at himself to grow the fuck up and get over it.

"The hardest part is starting, brother." Jack's face looked like a skeletal Holloween mask in the pale green light, but the gentle dark eyes belied any fear Mac's overactive imagination could conjure. Jack leaned down until Mac couldn't turn away. "Tell me about your squad." Mac shifted automatically trying to turn away. Jack put a solid grip on Mac's shoulder preventing any movement.

"They seemed like great guys," Jack commented. Mac took in a steadying breath. He wished his brain pulled out happy memories instead of endless loops of screams, fire, the heat the smell, "... with me." Jack's voice snapped away the images bursting them like a soap bubble. Mac blinked feeling as if he were outside his body looking down, removed and distant. Jack leaned closer and cupped Mac's wet cheeks. He turned Mac to face him. Mac closed his eyes absorbing strength and warmth from the older man's hands. They were solid, real. "...me?" Mac could hear the fear in his friend's voice and forced his eyes to open.

"Yeah...hard to...stay here." Mac's voice drifted from far away as if a ventriloquist was talking through him. Mac's body was cold, limp as uncooked dough. He couldn't move.

"Oh, kid," Jack said. Mac felt more than saw Jack stand and bend Mac so he could slip behind the kid's back. Jack tilted Mac's body, so his surgical incisions didn't rub against anything. Mac frowned knowing he should be yelling in pain, but he didn't feel anything. Jack pulled Mac against his chest. Mac listened to the steady beating of Jack's heart. He closed his eyes Jack's heart becoming his whole world, something to anchor him. His chest hitched and again he started to shake. Mac didn't understand what was happening. _Explosion...falling...burned flesh...villagers, his squad, the brave soldier…  
_

"I don't know his name," Mac said his voice muffled by Jack's chest.

"Whose?" Mac jumped, he hadn't realized he'd said anything. Jack brushed Mac's damp hair away from his sweaty face.

"The guy on the roof." Jack rubbed Mac's back. Mac took a deep breath something unknotting inside. "I was going to save him. The old couple...I thought they had lived a long happy life together; I wanted him to have a chance to do that...I should have worked faster, saved them all." Mac's chest hitched again. Mac barely noticed Jack didn't say anything. Mac felt like he was talking to himself only in a kinder, more comfortable place than he usually did.

"He told me to help the others he...he said the couple were the only support their granddaughter had, and she was a single mom and...and then he said that he was a soldier like me and that we both knew the drill...and...and...he told me to get the fuck away from him, but I shouldn't have...I shouldn't…" Mac disintegrated into tears. He could feel the echo of Jack's comforting murmurs through the older man's chest. "And my guys...Pena was...he taught me...and the other guys. They razzed me, you know the new kid thing, but they never doubted I could do my job...they...they gave me a chance right away I never had to prove myself...they were the first...to ever do that...and I got them killed. I was the one who hunted the Ghost...I'm the one the Ghost wanted to fuck with...I should have been in that hut not them...or the innocent...they waited, they relied on me, and I failed...I should have…" Mac's voice evaporated in the churning winds of the storm inside him. His tears flowed like blood from an open wound. Mac couldn't move a hand to wipe them away. He had nothing left. Jack waited a long minute before speaking. His voice reverberated directly into Mac's skull.

"You know that's survivor's guilt, right? There are plenty of times I wish I had done things differently, acted faster, saved more, but that's not the way it works. I know you would shuffle the entire universe around if you could to change things, save them all, make things better. I wish you could too, but we can't. It's the shits, but true." Mac snorted. Duh. Mac didn't have the strength to keep his eyes open. He couldn't make words.

"We've had a truly shitty week, brother. On top of that you've been carrying this guilt around...let go, Mac. Just let go and rest. I got ya, never doubt that…" If Jack said anything else, Mac lost it in the soft glove of sleep that wrapped around him pulling him into dreamless night.

Mac had no idea how long he slept. He opened his eyes surprised to see the living room flooded with warm sunlight. His eyes flicked up at movement and Laura smiled down at him. She was hanging a bag of blood.

"How do you feel?" She asked her frog voice surprisingly gentle. Mac managed a weak shrug. Laura nodded.

"Worn out?" Mac nodded. "Well, that's what happens when life beats the shit out of you." Laura turned back to the tubing. Mac smiled. He appreciated her no bullshit bluntness. "Do you feel nauseous?" Mac shook his head. His eyes scanned the room. He breathed in relief seeing Jack snoring on the other couch. Laura caught his gaze. "He's a great guy." She said. Mac looked up at her at the surprise in her voice. Laura laughed and shrugged. "I was warned about you two in my job interview." She laughed at his raised eyebrow.

"Especially you." Laura gazed over at Jack and smiled, "You know if he were just a little older…" A snort of laughter escaped. Laura shot him a scathing look. Mac swallowed and closed his eyes. Soon his fake sleep melted into real slumber.

A flurry of movement around him woke him up a second time. He looked up surprised to see Jack in full TAC gear snapping orders to his team who scattered Mac's house preparing for war. Mac's heart jumped; he tried to sit up, to move but couldn't. Jack noticed his movement and turned. He grinned down at Mac.

"Well, I figured you'd be waking up soon because you're as pretty as you're gonna get." Mac rolled his eyes then winced as the world spun like a slot machine. Jack crouched down eye to eye with Mac his face serious,

"The Ghost?" Mac managed. Jack nodded and put a gloved hand on Mac's shoulder.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, I promise." Mac patted Jack's hand and smiled.

"I know." Mac's eyes slowly were stitched closed by exhaustion. He tried to stay awake, but couldn't.

"Get some rest, ol' son," Jack said from the other end of a darkening tunnel. Mac felt his partner brush his hand through Mac's hair as he sank into darkness again.

Mac jerked awake his heart thudding trapped in his chest. The distant sounds of war sucked the air out of his lungs. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He heard the snap of Jack's Baretta and the M5s of the TAC teams. Mac scowled there were other guns, older guns; he thought he heard the coughs of AK-47s and M16s. Who the hell would use those in 2017? The gunfire came from all sides of his home. Mac tried to push himself up and out of his nest, but he could barely move his arm.

"Dammit." He swore as he flopped back. The alarm on the monitor started to beep. Mac felt his heart scurry out of its regular song. His chest felt tight, and it was a long minute before he could catch his breath. Mac froze, his stomach dropping. He slowly turned his head. His mouth went dry, and his throat felt strangled with cotton. The man sitting on the coffee table staring at him leaned forward and smiled.

"Hello, MacGyver." Mac's eyes darted around the room with desperation but couldn't come up with a way of escaping. The Ghost leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees his chin on his fist. "I think it's about time we got to know each other, don't you?"


	17. Chapter 17

"How did you get in here?" Mac asked. The Ghost shrugged.

"With enough money and classic misdirection you can get in anywhere. How old are you?" Mac blinked surprised and a little insulted at the question. He narrowed his eyes and studied the Ghost. The man could have passed for an ice cream truck vendor. He had a face that wanted to be happy. There was no wild craziness or the coldness of a killer that lived for killing. Mac swallowed as he realized that the man before him was brilliant, as intelligent as any person he had ever met.

"Why?" Mac asked genuinely curious to understand the twists of the Ghost's mind. The man across from him shrugged.

"You look like you're not even legal to drink and yet are the only one who has interrupted my plans. Won, I suppose you'd call it."

"No, I don't call it winning," Mac said swallowing acidic anger. He felt his adrenaline start to pump as a rage began to flame inside him. The Ghost chuckled.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. You are like every other heroic American I've come across." Mac frowned. There was genuine anger in the man's voice.

"You're an American."

"Only by birth." Mac raised an eyebrow at the man's bitterness. The Ghost saw this and smiled. He rose to his feet and began to pace. Fear added to the banging of Mac's heart. The Ghost noticed this on the monitor and smiled. Mac began to hatch a plan or half a plan at least.

"Oh, I am the perfect American and the worst."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Money, MacGyver. Don't you realize that's the ultimate power in America? Big business, government, hell even the media all about money."

"So are you," Mac growled. The Ghost shrugged.

"Of course, but at least I'm honest about it."

"And the victims?" Mac challenged. The Ghost gave Mac a patronizing smile.

"People die." Mac's fury gave him strength. He pushed up to sitting. He glared at the man breathing hard and shaking from the struggle. The Ghost chuckled and sat back down studying MacGyver.

"You are nothing but a lunatic." Mac gasped. A look of irritation crossed the Ghost's face. Interesting.

"Are soldiers who kill innocents in war lunatics?"

"You aren't at war; you're only greedy." The irritation grew in heat. Mac realized the Ghost wanted Mac to understand, maybe even agree with him. Mac could use that to keep him talking. The gunfire outside had become sporadic. Mac pulled his blanket up to his shoulders. The Ghost smiled his amusement. Mac's hand began to slide along his chest unplugging the leads of the monitor. Mac fought to keep away the gloom oozing into his vision.

"Everyone is at war with someone. Like you for instance." Mac felt a chill.

"I'm not at war."

"You deny that you don't travel the world to further American interests?" Mac grimaced.

"I go to help people. Keep them safe from assholes like you." The Ghost cocked his head then laughed.

"You are as young as you look." Mac swallowed feeling the sting hit home. All of his life he'd had to prove himself because of his age or appearance of youth. Mac gritted his teeth. He sidestepped the insult and fired one of his own.

"Maybe, but I beat you. I mean you're here right? How many others have you ever gone through this much trouble for without getting a fee?" The Ghost's face began to flush, and his eyes became dark furnaces of hate.

"Don't flatter yourself, kid. I am here solely because you amuse me and I like to watch your pain." Mac schooled his face to remain neutral, but his hands made fists under the covers.

"Why do you never work in America?" Mac asked. The Ghost blinked thrown by the question.

"Americans have the most money. Why should I kill the golden goose?" Mac laughed and shook his head.

"You are such a hypocrite!

"Isn't everyone? You never carry a gun but how many people have you killed?" Mac swallowed feeling a familiar agony burn in his heart. He fought to keep the gallery of people he couldn't save from distracting him. He shook his head. His body trembled with the effort of holding himself upright. Sweat showered his forehead and stung his back wounds.

"No one in cold blood." The Ghost frowned. Mac blinked. Why did that upset the madman? A sly smile spread across Mac's face.

" What happened? Are you pissed at your Mom for not hugging you enough? Your Daddy beat you? You play with matches, and it got you off? You're nothing but a garden variety psychopath with delusions of self-importance." The Ghost roared and lept forward. Mac grabbed the wires of the heart monitor and swung with all the strength he had left. It knocked the Ghost to the ground. Mac kicked him then twisted and leaned the IV pole as hard as he could. The glass in the window behind the couch cracked. Mac yelled with desperation and swung at the spiderwebbed glass. It exploded out with a crash. He heard shouts outside. Mac had the time for a flash of hope Jack would be in time before the Ghost grabbed the IV tubing and wrapped it around Mac's neck.

Mac tried to push his fingers in between the plastic and his neck, but the tubes cut deep into his flesh. The Ghost stood and dragged Mac off the couch. Mac felt his burst of energy evaporate and everything dim. He kicked at the sofa. Without his regular strength, he didn't knock the maniac over, but he did make the man stumble back a step. Mac leaned back able to see the raging mask of the killer's face. Mac reached up trying to gouge an eye, punch him, anything. The Ghost howled and kicked Mac in the back over his wounds. Mac closed his eyes his world becoming a darkening haze of agony. He would have screamed if he could have breathed. Mac's arms flopped down. He fought to stay awake but had nothing left. His body went limp, and everything went black.

Jack whirled at the sound of a window breaking. His heart dropped to his stomach.

"Take care of this." He snarled at his TAC team as they rounded up the five punks who had fired at the house. In a flash, Jack realized he'd been played. He gritted his teeth. They'd been a diversion, designed to spread his team thin and get them all outside. Jack cursed railing at his stupidity knowing the Ghost had gone in to attack Mac. Jack didn't pause to open the front door he kicked it in leveling his M5 as he used his momentum to fly into the room. He took in the scene at a glance.

The Ghost had pivoted and knelt behind the limp form of Mac. He grinned as he choked Mac. Jack didn't hesitate he ran forward and barreled into both of them. He shoved Mac aside and knelt on the Ghost. Jack roared as he slammed the butt of the M5 into the man's face. The Ghost leaned forward and managed to pull Jack's knife out of its thigh holster. Jack pummeled the man's broken face three more times before he felt the blad jam into his side. Jack gritted his teeth. The concussion armor was built to withstand a barrage of bullets. Its main vulnerability was the gaps between the plates. The Ghost grimaced his teeth missing blood spewing with his breathing. He twisted the knife.

Jack yelled in pain his body automatically arching away from the pain. The Ghost swung up and cut Jack's arm. Jack dropped the M5. The Ghost bucked pulling Jack's wounded arm. Jack flew of rolling into the coffee table. He ignored the pain and rolled onto his right side kicking out with his left. He caught the Ghost low in the sternum. The Ghost fell back. He was weakening and probably wouldn't be conscious much longer. Jack saw it before the Ghost moved. The psychopath whirled stabbing out at the motionless body of MacGyver. Jack kicked the man again this time scoring the throat. The Ghost fell back gurgling but not before he finished his downward swipe. Jack watched in horror as the knife sliced the tubing before plunging into the side of Mac's neck. Blood began to gush out.

Jack ran to his friend's side and clamped his gloved hand over the wound as hard as he could.

"HELP!" He bellowed. He glanced up as his men ran in weapons leveled.

"Holy Shit!" one of them yelled as another was speaking urgently into their radio. Mac blocked it all out focusing on the slack face of his partner. Mac's face was a ghostly grey with blue highlights around his mouth and nose. Jack couldn't see his chest rise. Jack leaned forward and breathed out in relief at the gentle puff that touched his cheek.

"That's the way, brother, keep breathing. I got ya, you better not even think of leaving me." Jack growled adding his other hand to the one holding pressure. There was still too much blood. He looked up desperately. His team stared at them astonished unsure what to do. Not that they could do much. "How much longer for paramedics."

"Matty says they're five mics out." Jack gritted his teeth. That's too long, but what could he do? Jack blinked as an idea came to him. A crazy probably-worse-than-the-wound-idea. Looking at the blue spreading on Mac's grey face he knew he didn't have any other choice.

"Come here hold pressure." He demanded of his number two. The man bent and knelt in the growing puddle of thick blood. Jack crossed to his M5 then the coffee table. He pulled out the magazine and poked out a handful of bullets he ripped the sleeve off his shirt and pulled out his back up knife strapped to his hip. It was smaller like a paring knife only much sharper. He cut the tips off the bullets and poured gunpowder onto the cloth until he had an ant hill. Jack crossed back to Mac and glanced up at the soldiers.

"Lighter?" He snapped. Green 2 jumped forward with a zippo. Jack glanced at the man holding pressure. The man's eyes were wide, but he nodded. He moved his fingers farther down Mac's neck and pressed on his jugular and carotid. It cut the oxygen off to the kid's brain but slowed the gush of blood enough for Jack to cover the wound with the gunpowder. He tilted Mac's head as far back as he could then lit it. There was a flash. Jack beat at flames that sparked in Mac's hair wrinkling his nose at the smell of burnt hair, gunpowder, and flesh. The soldier slowly let up the pressure. Jack peered at it closely. Mac was still bleeding, but it was a trickle compared to what it had been. Jack breathed out in relief and shared grins with the TAC team. One of the men handed him a dish towel. Jack folded it and gently pressed it against Mac's neck. He winced at the blistered red skin spreading along the kid's cheek, ear and throat. Mac would be in a world of hurt when he'd wake up, but at least he'd wake up.

Jack felt his adrenaline start to crash. His two knife wounds began to cramp, and his side and arm burned with pain. Everything seemed to go grey; he felt himself slump back his hands falling away from Mac's neck. He mumbled something and tried to sit up. Hands helped him, and he felt himself leaning against one team member as another removed his body armor. Jack felt cold and nauseous. He saw another soldier take his place holding pressure and was dimly aware of red and blue flashing lights and a loud siren pulling into the drive. His head flopped forward as everything melted into nothing.


	18. Chapter 18

Jack stretched and took a sip of beer. He closed his eyes taking in the musk of the trees around him and the soft rippling pond that gently nudged the doc. Jack wiped sweat from his brow and studied his work. They had ended up five feet shy of the original deck, but he had made sure what they had was stable enough to survive any other hurricane that came their way.

Jack smiled and enjoyed the sun playing across his bare skin as he padded toward the cabin. Wearing only shorts the breeze off the pond felt crisp and refreshing. He winced looking down. His forearm where the Ghost had sliced his still stung and itch. The 19 stitches had come out last week. His side ironically had only needed three stitches and hurt a hell of a lot less. Doc Carl said it was because it had mostly gone into the one roll of fat Jack never seemed to be able to work off since he passed 40. He had been fortunate.

Jack felt the full weight of the sentiment as he approached MacGyver curled up under a blanket sleeping on a comforter spread under the green shade of an old Elm. Mac had no business being alive. Jack's spit dried at the thought. He remembered coming to in the bustling ER with Laura sewing his arm back together.

Jack closed his eyes and felt his heart falter out of beat. Every medical staff Phoenix had access to had scurried around the unconscious man. Jack rubbed his eye as dust caused tears to build up. He took a sip of beer. Be honest, Jack told himself, Mac had not looked good, and Jack had known it was the end of the line for his brother. Jack stared out at the calm mirror of the pond. He'd gone to surgery three times to fix his neck. Sally had assured Jack that if he hadn't done what he had Mac would have bled out, but his meatball first aid and the strangulation had caused a lot of damage. On top of that Mac had had to have his back debrided again and sewn back up and his heart still flipped in and out of rhythm. He should have died.

If love and fear were prayers, Jack had prayed with everything he had in him. He had stayed at Mac's bedside for a long three weeks. He couldn't count how many times medics had run in fighting to bring down his temp or give fluids and medicine for his heart or any number of other emergencies. Mac somehow had weathered it all. The worry about brain damage from the loss of blood to his brain had been another heart-wrenching scare and the longer Mac stayed unconscious, the longer Jack and everyone at Phoenix felt hope die.

Jack breathed out and took another sip of beer. He looked over at the sleeping kid and grinned. Once again Mac did the impossible. Jack had always teased the kid about being cleanly shaven. Even though he knew it wasn't right, he'd, always told Mac he would only grow peach fuzz because he was so young and pretty. Jack had seen the tawny layer of fur before when they were out in the field a long time. Now seeing it against his whiter than white skin made Mac look like a hundred-year-old plague victim. Jack was elated when Mac opened his eyes, but Mac hadn't been entirely there. The sparkle of mischief generally in his baby blues was dulled with pain and fatigue and not just the physical.

Jack sighed and walked to Mac. Mac gained ground every day physically, but he was emotionally somber, flat, and sad. In Phoenix medical that seemed to get worse and Mac didn't sleep or eat much. Jack finally put his foot down and brought Mac out to his cabin. Jack glanced at his watch and smiled. Everyone had come out. Most of the TAC teams had come out to sweep the beach of debris and relayed out to bring in the half-sunk rowboat. Sally came out once every other day and often brought Sam who distracted Mac while her mom did medical stuff to the kid. Mac smiled more when she was around. Jack grinned. It was apparent Sam loved Mac as much as her mother did. She harassed Mac about being a spy-what was it like, how did you get to be one and most importantly, did he think a ten-year-old could join his team in Phoenix. Mac had distracted her by making paper dolls that Sam colored in as Antebellum or Elizabethan ball gowns. Everyone agreed that Baby Evil Elf was quite the firecracker.

Matty, Bozer, and Riley had come out every weekend bringing food, music and good company. Jack was happy to see Mac smile and ate more with Bozer's simple home cooking. Bozer made all of his favorites. Mac sat bundled on the sofa relaxing with the company of his loved ones around him as they watched movies or played cards-practice or no, Sam still took Jack's last three paychecks. Jack finished his beer and sat down in the shade beside Mac.

While all of that was great, Mac still slept 20 out of 24 hours. Jack tried to reassure himself that this was what Mac's body needed to heal, but it was unnatural. Mac was a body in motion hardly ever in one place or on one thought long enough to be still. Now he was a shell of himself. Jack gently brushed Mac's hair away from his face. His color was better now he was getting fresh air. Mac moaned and slowly cracked his eyes. He looked up at Jack and smiled a small smile.

"Hey." The kid mumbled. Jack smiled back. He didn't care how long it took; he'd make sure Mac would return to normal. Mac looked around confused for a second. He blinked. "What time is it? When are the others going to get here?"

"They'll probably be out here in an hour or two. Are you sure you're up for this?" Mac rubbed his face and fought a long yawn.

"It'll be nice having everyone over." Mac narrowed his eyes and studied Jack. Jack looked away hoping his dark thoughts didn't show. "Are you ok?"

"Me? Of course, this is the longest paid vacation I've had in centuries." Jack laughed. Mac leaned back huffing out a deep breath his eyes sad.

"Some vacation." He grumbled. Jack scowled. He knew Mac felt guilty about needing everybody's help. Jack reached over and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Mac looked at him startled.

"It's the best vacation ever," Jack said his eyes tearing up with sincerity. Mac swallowed and nodded. Jack turned away taking a shaky breath. It had been too close, too damn close. Jack chuckled. "You wanna know what Matty did with the Ghost?" Mac turned with a raised eyebrow.

"She spread his ashes over at Scholl with all the other garbage." Mac laughed then winced holding his hand over the side of his neck. Jack frowned with worry and leaned forward. Mac put out a hand stopping him.

"It's ok, Jack, it's just gonna hurt for awhile." Jack looked at him oddly. "What?"

"You know you get to know what it feels like to be bitten by a vampire...maybe you'll start to sparkle? I hear that's a thing now." Mac's mouth quirked at the edges.

"A.) You've been hanging out with Riley too long, sparkling vampires are just...dumb, B) I wasn't bitten and C) if I ever did start to sparkle I hope you have the decency to spike me dead." Jack shook his head and laughed while inside his heart jumped with fear about the idea of death and Mac anywhere near the same sentence.

"Do you want to go inside and get some rest before everyone else gets here?" Mac scowled and closed his eyes.

"No, but I guess I should." His voice was thick with tired acceptance. Jack sighed.

"It'll get better, buddy." Mac squinted at him.

"I hope so, big guy. I really do." Jack stood up and helped Mac pull off the blanket. Even though it was comfortably cool out, Mac wore a hoodie over a long-sleeved T-shirt and sweats. He reached up an arm and put his arm around Jack's shoulders. Jack hauled him up to his wobbly feet. Mac hung his head. He'd paled a color. Jack waited patiently. After a couple of minutes, Mac finally looked up and nodded. He slowly staggered toward the cabin Jack taking most of his weight.

Mac was out of breath and panting as Jack helped him to bed. Jack took off his shoes and socks. Mac was already half asleep. Jack covered him up feeling an explosion of fondness for his brother.

"Jack?" Mac mumbled.

"Yeah?"

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything, you know that."

"Can you find out his name?" Jack blinked at Mac in confusion about to ask when he remembered what Mac had said the night before the Ghost's attack. _I don't even know his name._

"Sure, I'll ask Riley when she gets here."

"Thanks…'ove yu…" Mac's voice vanished into a thick slur. Jack felt as if his heart would explode. He bent down and ran a hand through the kid's hair.

"I love you too, brother." He said softly into Mac's ear.

Two hours later, Sally and Sam were the first ones to arrive. Jack watched Sally's classic love bug bounce into the driveway as she slowly drove over ruts and holes. She looked flustered when she got out, her face almost matching the car's candy apple red. Sam exploded out of the car and ran up to Jack throwing herself into an all-encompassing hug. For some reason, Sam always smelled of bubble gum, grape juice and WD 40.

"Is Mac up?" The girl's red curls were pulled back into long pigtails, and she wore jeans and a T-shirt covered in motor oil and grease. Jack shook his head. It was an old T-shirt of Mac's he'd worn as a work shirt. No one quite knew why the girl appropriated it, but she wore it almost everywhere.

"He's napping on the couch." Sam's deep mahogany eyes went severe.

"Is he doing ok?" Jack smiled.

"He sure is, he's been waiting to see you all day." Sam let out a squeal that sent shockwaves of pain through Jack's ears then bounced into the cabin. Jack stood up shaking his head. He smiled at Sally. She hugged him then held him at arm's length. She frowned.

"How are you? Have you been getting any sleep?" Jack ran a hand through his stubby hair. He shrugged and turned away gazing at the smooth surface of the water.

"Some, mostly when Mac's out. I've been trying to get things up to specs around here." Sally smiled and twined his arm with hers.

"It's ok to work the demons away Jack, but don't let them work you away," Sally said as they entered the cabin. Jack grinned.

"Did you make that up? You should copyright that." Sally laughed.

"You never know, Jack." They found Sam sitting on the coffee table excitedly telling Mac about her idea to sew a life-size ball gown with secret pockets for guns and knives. Mac smiled and offered some suggestions. Sam had out a drawing pad and began to write down some ideas. Mac waved at Sally his expression changing to one of leeriness. Sally laughed.

"Oh, Jack I forgot! Laura made peach cobbler for you; it's in the car." Jack felt his face flush.

"You mean for all of us, right?" Sally shot him a wicked grin.

"Oh no, Jack. You're her sweet babu."

"Her what?" Mac exploded with a loud roar holding his side in pain but unable to keep in his amusement. Jack glared at him.

"Her sweet babu, her words. You know I think she'd like you to be her man-pup."

"HER WHAT?"

"Man-pup, you know what cougars like to play with?" Jack shook his head speechless, turned and got the cobbler out of the car. Sally laughed taking off her jacket and crossing to sit beside her sister. Mac studied the drawing. Sally eyed him; there was plotting going on behind those blue eyes. He looked at Sam.

"You know this is really good. Bozer has an aunt who loves to sew and make stuff. Maybe you could ask Boze to have her make it into a real dress?" Sally arched an eyebrow at him. Mac gulped and hastily added. "If it's ok with Sally, of course." Sam whirled and glared at Sally expectantly. Sally sighed and nodded.

"If it's ok with Bozer." Sam let out another ear-piercing scream bounced up and ran out the door. Looking over Mac could see Riley and Bozer bouncing up to the drive in Bozer's gray Buick. Mac leaned back resting a hand on his forehead. He realized Sally was scrutinizing his every move. He dropped his hand and looked at her exhaustion in his face.

"What?" He asked tiredly.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Mac rolled his eyes then closed them.

"I wouldn't have invited everyone if I wasn't. Besides it's not like I'll be awake the whole time." Sally frowned at the frustration in Mac's voice. Before she could say anything Jack holding a lasagna pan of cobbler led Bozer, Riley, and Sam into the kitchen. Bozer grinned at Mac who tiredly waved then sat at the table beside Sam taking her pencil and going over her drawing making suggestions. Mac smiled. He hadn't thought about it, but the request would probably never reach his aunt, Bozer would probably make Sam's fancy spy dress. Mac sighed feeling his eyes droop as he again sunk into sleep.

A few hours later Jack woke Mac up.

"They're getting ready to fire up that monstrosity you made." Mac rubbed his eyes which widened as he looked at the clock.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" He said groggily.

"Why do you think? Duh. Come on, bro. Matty brought a huge hammock for you." Mac squinted up at Jack.

"Matty...hammock? Why?" Jack rolled his eyes.

"Maybe she wants you to bring it to work; I don't know." Mac frowned at him but was too tired to tease back. Jack reached down and hauled Mac up. Easing along at Mac's slow pace, Jack half carried him outside. Mac grinned at everyone in front of him. He'd insisted on having a barbeque to thank everyone who had helped him while he was down. The TAC guys had brought a volleyball and net and were in short playing against and crushing Riley, Bozer, and the rest of the medical staff. Matty and Sally sat in swimsuits drinking what looked to be daquiries or margaritas on the blanket under the Elm. Everyone paused to turn to Mac and give him a classic slow clap. Mac groaned and covered his eyes with his hands.

"I'll never hear the end of this." He grumbled. Jack laughed.

"Absolutely not." The hammock had been set up between two white birches behind the Elm. It took Jack and two other TAC guys to maneuver Mac into it. Sally was there in an instant fussing over Mac making sure he had a pillow and was warm enough. Mac shot Jack a pleading look. Jack laughed.

"Sorry, bud. I'm on burning the food detail." Jack turned and joined Bozer who had pulled out a square metal contraption the size of Sally's car. Mac laid back taking deep relaxing breaths. Everyone offered words of support then left him slightly swaying in the breeze. Mac smiled his spirit feeding on the gentle rocking, the sounds of happiness around him and the smell of Bozer's marinaded steak on the grill. He drifted into sleep again for the next half hour. He was woken up by Sam staring at him intently holding a plate stacked with food.

"Sally and Jack said if you don't eat all of this they are going to put you in a box and feed you to the fishes at the bottom of the pond." Mac's mouth quirked into a wry smile.

"No, they didn't." Sam sighed upset to be caught out.

"Ok, they didn't, but they sure would have if they'd thought about it." Mac took the plate from Sam with a promise he'll do his best. Sam flounced away to sit with Riley and Bozer. Mac grimaced. The meat had been diced into small chunks. He suspected Sally was behind that. He picked at the bites and nibbled on a few wincing at the pain in his throat. He'd only eaten about a quarter of the plate when he slumped back exhausted. Mac's eyes pricked with tears of frustration.

"Hey." Jack walked up to Mac and handed him a beer. Mac arched an eyebrow his glance shifted to Sally. "She said one would be ok since you've been a good boy and keep resting." Mac scowled but took the beer gratefully. He chugged down a gulp then leaned back feeling it slide down his sore throat and spread in his belly smooth and fresh. He sighed and leaned it beside him in the hammock.

Jack studied Mac closely noting the haunted shadows creep into his eyes again.

"Are you ok?" Jack asked. Mac cleared his throat and looked away taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, just really really worn out." Mac's voice matched his words. Jack frowned. Mac sounded tired to the point of pain.

"Do you want to go inside and rest?" Mac looked at Jack and sighed.

"I don't...yeah, I probably should." The younger man whispered. Jack could tell there was something under the words, something that wasn't healing. Mac awkwardly flipped off the hammock leaning against Jack a long minute before getting his rubbery feet under him. He nodded, and they wobbled to the cabin. Mac grinned and thanked everyone but his shoulders slumped, and he could barely stand as Jack hauled him to his room.

Mac sat on the side of the bed leaning forward eyes closed breathing deeply his head bent down. Jack gathered a clean pair of sweats and T-shirt. Jack crouched in front of Mac; he couldn't see the kid's face behind his unruly fringe of blond hair.

"Mac?" Jack brushed the bangs out of the kid's face surprised to see tears dripping down his face. "Mac, what's wrong?" Mac rubbed his face with the heel of his right hand. He shook his head. "Come on, talk to me. What's going on?" Mac managed to raise his head, and his gaze met Jack's.

"I'm just so damn tired." He said. Jack frowned knowing Mac wasn't talking about his physical wounds. Jack sat beside him and put an arm around Mac's slim shoulders.

"I hear ya, brother. It's been a bitch...but he's gone now, you're safe, and it's over." Mac managed a wan smile. He stared at the wall in front of him.

"Is it? Why don't I feel better?"

"What do you mean?" Mac sighed and reached up to unzip his hoodie.

"It doesn't matter." Jack put his hand over Mac's stopping him and waited until Mac met his gaze.

"It matters. Did you expect to heal up right away? Is that what this is, frustration?" Mac leaned forward grimacing at the pain in his lower back. Jack automatically started rubbing Mac's upper back.

"No...well maybe a little, it would be nice if I could just wake up and be better, but I know that's not how it works."

"So?"

"I don't know. I thought there would be some sense of...of being done. Of it being over, finished."

"Closure?"

"I don't know maybe." Mac's voice was barely a whisper. Jack studied his partner who leaned his head into both of his hands. After a long minute, Mac shook his head and gave Jack a small smile and yawned. Jack chuckled and nodded helping Mac out of his hoodie and into clean clothes. Mac breathed out in relief as he stretched out. Jack pulled the comforter up. Mac's eyes were slowly drifting shut.

"Hey, hey not yet kiddo." Mac looked up and huffed as Jack leaned over him with yet another handful of pills. Mac choked them down one by one. Mac slumped back breathing hard when he finished the last one. He didn't fight sleep letting it wash over him. Jack watched him, Jack's breathing automatically fell into sync with Mac's rhythm. An idea occurred to Jack, and he smiled having an idea about how to help his friend.

It took another two weeks to set up. Mac's stamina was growing. He could walk short distances on his own now and stay awake longer. He was still too listless for Jack's liking, but as he often reminded Mac healing takes time. Mac sat on the end of the doc kicking his feet in the water watching as the sky above shivered in the water below. Perhaps feeling guilty for the savage storm, mother nature had given them another warm day. Mac sat with only shorts on enjoying the breeze against his skin. He felt like a reinflated tire. Mac stretched his back. He'd finally gotten rid of the thick circle of bandages. Tomorrow the stitches would come out of his back. He'd already had the ones on his side and neck removed.

Jack's reflection popped over Mac's head. Mac jumped and turned looking up at his partner.

"Are you trying to kill me?" He said with a smirk. Jack shrugged.

"I have something for you."

"Oh?" Jack handed Mac a manilla folder. On the tab was the name 'Derrick Jacob Nellis, LTJG, US Navy.' Mac felt his heart flutter in his chest, and his hand shook. Jack sat beside Mac. "Is this…?"

"Yep, Riley pulled that." Mac swallowed and opened the file. The picture of the young African-American with his full future ahead of him gazed up at his hope and fire in his eyes. Mac slapped the file shut sucking in an unsteady breath. Derrick was his age, but Mac felt centuries older. He rubbed the bridge of his nose trying to reign in the storm of emotions. Jack didn't say anything only put a comforting arm around Mac's shoulders. "You don't have to read it you know." Mac glared at the lake it's calm blue feeling like an exposed lie.

"Yes, I do," Mac said to himself more than the world around him. He took a deep breath and slowly opened the file. Derrick hadn't lied, there was no next of kin listed. His wife and three boys had died in a car crash while deployed to Guam. His parents went a year later a week apart from each other. Mac felt as if his heart was being cut out. How much had this guy gone through and yet he still served and made the ultimate sacrifice. Mac's grip on the folder went limp. Jack managed to save it from falling into the water.

Mac gazed off into space, his brain again playing the loop of the man's death. Guilt bored into Mac's chest causing his lungs to hitch as soft sobs slowly wrenched free from him. Jack pulled Mac close, and that was Mac's undoing. He clung to the older man and buried his head into Jack's shoulder giving in to gut-wrenching sobs.

Mac almost collapsed against Jack his crying sucking down whatever remnants of energy Mac had left. Mac was dazed. Jack hauled him to the cabin and got him into bed. Mac was out in seconds. Jack frowned considering the wisdom of his plan. He decided to go with his gut. It would be hard for the kid, but Mac needed some way of putting this in the rearview mirror.

Mac was quiet on the way into Phoenix the next morning. Jack's red-faced discomfort under the determined flirting of Laura kept Mac distracted while the Evil Elf gnawed pieces of skin off with each suture she removed. Mac was still teasing Jack about being a Man-cub out to the car. Jack took it good-natured, mostly. He was happy to see the cloud break and a ray of sunlight shine through. It didn't last. Mac fell into a moody silence staring out the passenger's window.

Mac didn't notice they weren't going home until the car bounced into a cemetery. Mac felt his heart speed up and his stomach fall. He glared at Jack.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, his anger showing he had a pretty damn good idea that his partner was up to something and it probably wouldn't end well. Jack sighed and pulled off his shades.

"You need some way of laying to rest." Mac shook his head and rubbed his forehead.

"I'm fine, just tired." Mac wished his voice didn't sound so flat. It wasn't convincing even to himself. Jack hummed. They rode through the narrow curving lanes of the sprawling cemetery. Jack hated graveyards. He'd seen too many good people in the ground for him ever to get accustomed to the cement or shiny stones where lives reduced to dates, names and maybe a sentence or two. Even the most elaborate and polished would one day stand broken and forgotten eventually.

Jack pulled to the side of the grassy road. The two men sat in silence staring out at the thick green grass spread out like a lawn dotted with uniform white crosses flanked on both sides by American flags. Mac sighed.

"Which one?"

"Third from the left sixth row." Mac nodded. Without looking at Jack, Mac said,

"Wait here?"

"Ok, bro, whatever you need." Mac got out of the car slowly. He walked to the grave slowly with a wobbly gait. Jack watched him, his heart breaking for his friend. After Mac reached the cemetery, he fell to his knees. Jack almost jumped out but held back. He glanced at his watch. Everyone should start arriving over the next ten minutes.

Mac reached out and felt the rough white stone. In military precision, Derrick's grave was utterly in line with the endless rows of white crosses. All served their country; many paid the ultimate price. Here, buried in a well-kept lawn, they are honored by perfectly spaced, perfectly kept crosses for the rest of time. The military made uniformity an honor once again. Mac blinked away tears that blurred his vision. He never bought into the whole heaven and hell thing, he wasn't sure he even believed in the hereafter or a soul, but here in the unnatural quiet presence of death, he had to admit there was a kind of peace. Mac gently touched the drying dirt covering the grave noting the tiny bristles of green growing. Soon Derrick Jacob Nellis LTJG of the US Navy would be covered and indiscernible from his brethren. The thought both comforted and saddened MacGyver.

Mac's head bolted up as he heard the sound of soft voices and shuffling feet. Jack led a line of 23 people toward him. Mac staggered to his feet. He recognized them all even though he had barely glanced at them that day on the roof. The elderly couple huddled together with the woman who had been pregnant but now held a newborn bundle in her arms. Caleb rested in Jack's arms sucking on his index finger looking at him curiously.

Every person carried a white lily. Mac stepped back as they neared. His breathing came faster, and his eyes searched for a direction to run away. Jack set the three-year-old down and crossed to Mac putting a firm hand on Mac's shoulder. It served the dual purpose of keeping Mac there and offering support. The woman gave her lily to Caleb, and the boy carefully laid it on the grave. In tears, the woman walked up to Mac and put a warm hand on his bare arm.

"Thank you." She said. Mac looked down unable to meet the gratitude pouring out of the woman's eyes with each tear. The old couple laid their lilies on the grave. The old man snapped to attention and gave the grave a stiff salute. After holding it for a long minute, the couple stopped in front of Mac. He received a kiss on his cheek from the old woman, and the man gave another crisp salute. Mac returned it offering it as a sign of respect. The line moved past in a slow blur. After paying their respects, the members of the apartment community slowly wound back to their cars and left. Behind them, another line waited. Mac surrendered to the tears as a long row of first responders in dress uniforms laid a penny on the top of the stone then formed in a group before Mac then saluted.

After everyone except Jack was gone, Mac collapsed to his knees again wracked with sobs. Jack held his brother close and sighed.

"You saved all of them, Mac."

"Except one." Mac managed.

"Yeah, except one who gave his life for others just like you and I would, just like everyone here has. That baby is breathing because of you. Those grandparents will see their great-grandchild because of you." Mac pulled back and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He closed his eyes and leaned his head in his hands on his knees. Jack waited. Mac eventually lifted his head, leaned back and took a cleansing breath. The cemetery didn't seem as silent. He could hear birdsong and the gentle whisper of the trees planted among the dead. Jack waited his head bowed running his hand over the soft turf. Mac sighed and looked at Jack.

"Thanks, Jack." Jack looked up and studied Mac closely. Mac reached over and punched Jack on the shoulder. Jack grinned. That told him more than anything that while he might not be now, Mac knew he was going to be ok. Jack smiled and pulled Mac into a quick hug. Mac growled and shoved him away calling him a weepy Man-cub. Jack roared with laughter as he bent and helped Mac to his feet. The Shelby top down, blaring Willie Nelsen, and the close companionship that was part brother, part friend, part partner, but all family unknotted the stress inside the two men as they teased each other all the way home.

****And there it is my friends, the end. I have to admit I'm sniffling over this one. A lighter shorter story is coming; I'm not going to say anything because it's going to be a surprise-then Corydon! Thank you so much for reading, favoriting and following. Special extra thanks to those who commented! Knowing there are people like you reading and enjoying what I write is the best incentive to post quickly. Every story I learn more, and this is all thanks to you 100%. Until next time, Peace


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